


Harry Potter and the Heir Regent

by ReverseRaven



Series: Slyther: I don't Want to Be Mediocre so I got Sorted into Slytherin [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Draco Malfoy Bashing, Gen, Girl-Who-Lived (Harry Potter), Gray Harry Potter, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Harry's Twin Is not a Git, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, No Romance, Original Fairy Character(s) - Freeform, Ron Weasley Bashing, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Politics, Smart Harry Potter, They Are Still Children You Knobs, cosmic horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 73,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReverseRaven/pseuds/ReverseRaven
Summary: Harry receives a dire warning about going back to Hogwarts, but between potential death at Hogwarts and living with the Dursleys, Harry would take a chance on death any day.
Series: Slyther: I don't Want to Be Mediocre so I got Sorted into Slytherin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717483
Comments: 258
Kudos: 546





	1. Carter's, Year Two

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Harry Potter and the Monster of Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708852) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am not charging people money to read this fic.
> 
> This is a sequel to my other fic, Harry Potter and the Firestarter. If you found this one first, I suggest you go read that before this one.
> 
> I'm still editing but I felt like posting Chapter 1 today, at least. I probably won't be posting multiple chapters per day like last time.

Gone.

Three days after getting back to Number Four Privet Drive and getting his own bedroom (albeit a shabby one with a bad mattress, though it still beat his cupboard by a wide margin), Harry had finally managed to sneak out and make his way to Carter's Bookstore.

The single-floor building was boarded up, with 'caution' signs plastered on it every couple of inches. There was no indication of what happened, if the bookstore had simply moved, or if something had happened to the aging owner.

It was just gone. Harry flexed his right wrist, tempted to flick his wand out and investigate, but he didn't want to get in trouble with the Ministry. Willow might have gotten away with it, but he doubted he would, even with him living in Amelia's house. _Especially_ with him living in Amelia's house.

He heaved a sigh, touched the Key around his neck for some comfort, and headed back the way he'd came. He provoked curious stares from the muggles, having decided to wear Justin's gifts as often as he could. They were a tad inapproriate for everyday wear, he'd realized, but he enjoyed how uncomfortable they made the Dursleys.

They'd wanted to lock up everything from Hogwarts, including his owl Mona, but Harry had floated the Key and made it whiz through the air, stopping an inch short of Vernon's eye socket.

Vernon hadn't asked again, though Harry had to admit he'd mostly done that for his own satisfaction. Most of his actual things were in his shrunken trunk that the Dursleys didn't know about. They hadn't asked him to do any chores either, and Dudley, Harry was fairly certain, had been warned not to antagonize him.

No warning from the Ministry ever came, so he supposed Flitwick had been right: Whatever was going on with the Key, it wasn't somehing that left any magical trace.

Despite not needing to do chores and having a room to himself, the summer felt lonelier than any other. He _ached_ to do magic again, and making the Key fly around in circles didn't quite scratch the itch. 

It didn't help that none of his friends had written back. Not Willow, not Theo, not Blaise. He wondered if Theo and Blaise had changed their minds about their friendship now that Harry was going up against Voldemort. He couldn't blame them for that, but it stung all the same.

Hermione and Neville didn't write. Neither did Tracey or Daphne. He was beginning to wonder if the year spent at Hogwarts making friends and learning magic had just been a fever dream his mind conjured. He couldn't even go visit Carter anymore.

His Wand flicked out of its holster, then back in. He wasn't about to get a criminal record just for proof he wasn't going mad. Or at least he hoped not. September seemed so far away. Luckily, he only needed to hold out for a month before he could come back to Bones Manor and find out what the hell had been going on.

 _Harry?_ Nyx prodded, buzzing up next to him.

_Yes, Nyx?_

_I can feel your frustration,_ she communicated.

_Sorry. I'm just really tired of this._

_I understand. I haven't cast a Glamour in so long I'm starting to wonder if I still can._

Harry nodded. His Familiar really did get him. 

After a week of isolation, Harry finally had enough. He put on a fine, blue polo shirt and pair of khakis from Justin, and decided to walk out of the house to explore Little Whinging. Petunia had taken one look at the whizzing key before pretending she hadn't seen him walk by.

There wasn't much to Little Whinging, being a relatively small town in Surrey. As he looked at a fairly deserted coffee shop, he wished he'd thought to convert some of his vault into Pounds for the summer. Nyx floated along with him, hidden from Muggle eyes.

 _Have you tried your Money Bag?_ she queried.

 _No,_ Harry answered. He reached into it, thought _Twenty Pounds_ and out came two ten-pound bills.

Harry loved magic.

He pulled _Getting More Familiar_ out of his trunk before going inside and ordering himself a cup of coffee, finding it surprisingly good. As he sat by himself in a booth, he couldn't help but think having his friends with him would've made it much better.

He spent a fair number of his days in that coffee shop, passing the time until he could finally leave the Dursleys.

* * *

"I'm going to be in my room, making no noise and pretending I don't exist," Harry repeated, to Vernon's satisfaction.

His birthday had arrived with neither presents nor letters from his friends. Not even his sister. He'd felt torn between anguish and fury. Anguish that everyone had forgotten about him, and fury because he was starting to suspect foul play.

Theo, Blaise, and Neville had told him to write, even offered to let him stay over after his month with the Dursleys was up. It was hard to think that all three of them suddenly stopped caring. Easier to think Dumbledore was trying to weaken him, but to what end, he didn't know. Dumbledore shouldn't have known he was on Harry's shit list.

 _Or perhaps they never cared at all,_ he thought.

 _Harry, you don't mean that,_ Nyx said.

It was his conflicted feelings and the Dursley's insistence not to let him out at night that led to Harry agreeing to stay shut in his room while the Dursleys entertained Uncle Vernon's work guests.

Harry ignored their rehearsal of flattery they'd use to get on the Masons' good side. Harry hardly considered himself an expert at manipulating people and even he knew how obvious they were being.

He stalked up to his room, closed the door, and locked it. He would've cast _Quietus_ if not for the stupid blanket ban on underage magic. Some of the best ways to prevent magic from being discovered _was_ magic, but sure, let's include _Quietus_ in the ban.

"Harry Potter?" an unfamiliar voice squeaked from the corner of the room.

Harry's Wand was out in a half-second. Nyx was ready to blast whoever it was with her Glamours, too. Voldemort wasn't going to kill him in Number Four, Privet Drive.

But instead of a Dark Lord, Harry found a house-elf, wearing what looked like a ragged pillow sack. It looked so abused compared to Gretchin that Harry couldn't help but see himself in it.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my bedroom?" he asked, his voice icy.

"Dobby is sorry to be bothering you," the House-elf said. "Dobby has heard of Willow Potter's cunning and ambitious brother, but he sees the whispers around the house were largely untrue."

"House? You serve someone who knows me?" Harry thought aloud. "Someone from Hogwarts?"

"Oh no, oh no, oh no! Dobby has hinted at his masters' identities! Dobby must be punished!" Dobby shrieked, walking himself over to the dresser. Before Harry could stop him, Dobby slammed the drawer against his fingers, loud enough that Harry was sure Vernon heard.

"Stop that!" Harry hissed. The Key floated into the air, pointed at the House-Elf. "Make noise again and I'll skewer you."

He wasn't actually going to, and not just because he wasn't sure he could. The Key could fly at surprising speeds, but it didn't exactly have a sharp edge to penetrate with.

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter," Dobby said, starting to sob. "Dobby only came to warn you. Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, and his sister, to warn them, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later. The Potters must not go back to Hogwarts."

"Sure," Harry said. He needed to play this carefully. If Vernon got mad enough to call his bluff about the Key, he'd be in trouble. "Did you tell my sister?"

"Harry Potter is indeed wise! Dobby did tell Willow Potter of the danger, but she would not listen. She said if something were happening in Hogwarts, she needed to be there to stop it."

"Go back to her, then," Harry told the House-elf. "You've managed to convince me, but my sister needs you. Thank you, Dobby."

"Oh, Harry Potter, to think you would thank Dobby!" the House-elf bawled, a bit too loudly for Harry's liking. "Even after Dobby stole all of Harry Potter's letters!"

"You. Did. What."

"Please do not be mad at Dobby, Harry Potter, sir." The House-elf took out a stack of letters from seemingly nowhere. "Dobby did it because he thought if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him, he wouldn't come to Hogwarts anymore."

"You're not wrong," he lied, slipping on the Slytherin mask he hadn't used all summer. Friends or no, he would've gone back. There was nothing for him in Muggle Britain. "May I please have them back now that you've convinced me to stay?"

"Of course." Harry's eyes widened a fraction. He'd gotten so many. Theo, Blaise, Hermione, Neville, Willow, Tracey. Even Daphne had written him for his birthday. "Well, thanks again, Dobby. No hard feelings about you stealing my mail."

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter," Dobby said. "But Dobby has heard you are a sly devil who foiled Dobby's master during first year."

With a pop, Dobby vanished. The world seemed to slow down as Harry carefully analyzed those two sentences. He swore under his breath and opened the door, wand out. Consequences be damned, he was going back to Hogwarts.

He found Dobby downstairs, in the Kitchen, where the Dursleys were entertaining (read: boring) the Masons. Harry almost snarled when he saw the floating pudding. His mind raced through possibilities, their probable outcomes, and decided on the one least likely to get him stuck with the Dursleys for the rest of the month.

" _Immobulus!_ " he incanted, and suddenly everything in the kitchen, floating pudding included, froze in place.

Dobby stared at Harry, his fingers moving at a glacial pace, and snapped them before disappearing from view. 

An owl flew in from the window, dropping an envelope of thick parchment. Harry scanned it, saw it was the expected Ministry letter, and tucked it in his pocket. They responded faster than expected. He took one last look at the frozen muggles before nodding to himself and leaving them as they were.

Harry stormed upstairs, wrote a letter to Amelia, and sent Mona off. Hopefully, it'd be enough to minimize the damage.

Amelia,

I wish I were writing you under better circumstances, but a House-elf just tried to get me in trouble with the law. It performed a wordless, wandless Hover Charm in an attempt to bother my relatives' muggle guests. I managed to prevent it with an _Immobulus_. I received a written warning from the Ministry but it said there'd be no penalty this time. I presume it's because it's my first offense?

Unfortunately the House-elf, whoever its master might've been, managed to get away, although it did give me a dire warning not to return to Hogwarts, and claimed to give the same warning to my sister. I think it was going against its masters' wishes, because it kept punishing itself, making loud noises in a muggle residence. The muggles may have seen it, actually, and I'd like to suggest a clean-up crew do Memory Charms just to be safe.

If the House-elf (I believe his name was Dobby) spoke to my sister, doesn't that mean he managed to get through Bones Manor's defenses? Are the three of you alright? Hopefully I will see you soon.

Harry 

Heir of House Potter


	2. Consequences

Harry,

Are you alright? House Elves going against their masters' wishes is not unheard of, but it is against their nature. I'll look into it, and ask Willow what she knows, but tracing a House Elf's master is surprisingly difficult if they put in any effort at all.

I told that old coot sending you to your muggle relatives was a bad idea, but I'm glad you handled it well. You do the Potters credit. I'll see if I can't have that first strike removed since you only performed magic in self-defense, though please refrain from doing this too often, and never use it against muggles unless you risk serious injury or death.

Your judgement is sound. An Auror named Sara Mustafa will be along shortly to wipe the muggles' memories of the past hour.

I hope to see you in Bones Manor soon.

Amelia Bones Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

* * *

Harry read through the letter a second time before breathing a sigh of relief. He'd been afraid Amelia wouldn't help to show she was a just enforcer of the law, but he supposed people didn't view the two of them to be so close that she couldn't get away with it.

Harry walked back down, shot a glance at the still-frozen muggles (it had only been ten minutes), and took a vacant seat on the table. He grabbed the floating bowl of pudding, set it down, and helped himself to a slice.

He allowed a smug smirk to appear on his face as he slowly devoured it. The Freezing Charm ( _Immobiulus_ ) was effective, with a wide range for hitting multiple evasive targets, but it lacked the punch of the Full Body-Bind Curse. Vernon's eyes were still moving, and his face turned scarlet as Harry made a show of savoring the pudding.

And it really was a show. Petunia's pudding had a bit too much sugar for Harry's tastes, but vengeance was just as sweet as he imagined.

The knock on the door came just as he finished his snack. Harry stood, sauntered over to the door, and looked through the peep hole. He then realized she was only being polite and could have blown the door down at any time, so he pulled it open.

A woman with olive skin and dark hair peered down at him. She was wearing a crisp set of work robes without a spot on them. Her lips curled into a thin smile. "Heir Potter?"

Harry nodded, noting her English accent and wondering if she'd gone to Hogwarts. "Miss Mustafa?"

"That's me. Madam Bones informed me of the situation. How many?"

"Five," Harry said. "My relatives technically know I'm magical, of course, but they aren't aware of House-elves, nor have they even seen magic performed before."

The second part was obviously a lie, but he supposed it gave him better odds that she'd agree to wipe the Dursleys' memories, too.

"Of course. May I?"

"Be my guest," Harry said as he showed her in.

She wiped their memories one by one. Harry noted that the incantation was _'obliviate'_ but resolved not to try it until he knew what he was doing. His hours with Madam Pomfrey had drilled the importance of safe spellwork into him.

"All done, Mister Potter," the Auror said. "Once the _Immobulus_ wears off, things'll be good as new."

"You're not going to remove it?" Harry asked.

"I'd rather not. Don't want to have to explain what I'm doing here. Was that everyone?"

"Indeed, it was. Thank you, er, may I call you Sara?"

The auror sniffed, but shrugged. "Only if I can call you Harry."

"Done. Thank you, Sara."

"You did good work," she assured him. "Now, if you'll excuse me," she trailed off, waved at him, and vanished with a pop.

* * *

Harry heaved a sigh as Vernon Dursley finished putting bars against his window. He'd have a tough time forcing his way through them at his current level, but the redundant locks on the door might as well have been tissue paper if he ever _really_ wanted to get out.

Despite his best efforts, the Dursleys had noticed the chunk he'd taken out of the pudding (which Harry realized in hindsight had been a terrible idea), and that almost an hour of time had passed in the blink of an eye. They were convinced he'd somehow stopped time and used it to eat their pudding. It took all of Harry's willpower not to go on a tirade about how Hogwarts students couldn't possibly have control over time and if they did, they'd use it for far more important things than eating pudding.

Instead, Harry had made the usual threat about sending the Key into Vernon's brain, but he assured Harry that if the Key got anywhere near him, he'd snap Harry's wand in two. That had almost gotten Harry to sic Nyx on him, but Amelia _had_ just warned him about using magic against muggles unless they threatened bodily harm. He 'could always get another wand' is what the Wizengamot would probably have said.

At least he'd managed to keep his trunk and Mona away from Vernon, still.

August became even worse than July, with Harry stuck in his room without magic except for the ability to float the Key around, which was quickly becoming second nature to him.

About a week into August, the day finally arrived for him to leave the Dursleys and head for Bones Manor.

"What do you mean, I can't leave?" Harry demanded through the locked door. His wand was out, already tracing the pattern of _Alohomora_ in the air, but he doubted he'd actually do it. He didn't want to cause Amelia any more trouble.

"You're staying there so you can't learn any more of that blasted devilry!" Vernon yelled from the other side.

 _Harry, do you want me to fool him into opening the door?_ Nyx asked. There was an edge to her voice he'd never heard before, but living with the Dursleys had that effect on people.

 _No. I don't want the Ministry knowing I have you,_ Harry replied.

"Vernon, if you think you can hold me here, you're sorely mistaken," Harry bluffed. "Now let me go before I force my way out!"

"Do it, then!" Vernon bellowed from the other side. "You can't, can you? Would've done it already if you could."

Harry made a mental note that before he vanquished Voldemort he should come back here and make it look like the Dark Lord had paid the Dursleys a visit for 'fostering one of his greatest enemies.'

He flicked his wand back into its holster to avoid the temptation. Two days. He'd give it two days before he did anything drastic. Dumbledore had warned him about how completely cutting himself off from the Dursleys might undo the Blood Protection on him and Willow, so he would wait. He refused to spend another week here, but another day or two, he could do.

Unfortunately, with the iron bars in place, he couldn't even write Amelia, at least not without using any magic.

Harry came closer and closer to the edge of rationality over the course of the next two days. He'd been given measley meals through a slot in the door which he'd had to share with his owl. Harry resolved to finally get out that night, laws against irresponsible use of underage magic be damned.

* * *

_Willow_

"Is that it?" Willow asked, looking at the small, two-floor home that couldn't have looked more ordinary if it tried.

"It's missing the fire and brimstone Harry mentioned, admittedly," Theodore Nott answered from the back seat. "But the address is right. Number Four, Privet Drive."

Willow nodded, keeping herself as steady as she could. She was shaking a bit, and not just because the Weasleys' flying car was vibrating, though it was certainly contributing. She didn't want Nott and Zabini to see her flinch, even if they were in the backseat.

 _Twilight Sparkle,_ she called. _What do you see?_

She's sent the Fairy down early to scope the place out, not that she expected much resistance from a muggle house. She pushed that last thought away. Dumbledore had said Harry needed to live here for their protection, but if _she_ could break in, what exactly was stopping Voldemort?

 _I told you. That is not my name. I see bars,_ the Fairy hissed through their telepathic link. Willow could feel her indignant fury. _On the windows. They're keeping him caged like a slave._

Willow bit her lip, counted down from ten, and then released a long breath. They were here to get Harry out, nothing else, though it didn't help that the house seemed very, very flammable.

She was suddenly glad her magic was still recovering from the Binding Ritual she'd performed on the last week of July. Not having magic for more than a week had been frustrating. Harry had warned her how it'd taken him three days to recover, but for whatever reason, hers had gone far worse than his had.

Willow pushed the thought away. The Girl Who Lived could _not_ become a Squib. If she did, she'd ask Amelia or Professor Dumbledore for help.

"Fred, George, fly us down," she spoke, lowering her voice a few octaves like Amelia taught her. It came in handy when trying to convince people.

"Aye, aye, captain," one of them said while the other lowered the car down so the door was level with the barred window.

"Harry!" Willow called out after lowering the car window. "We're getting you out!"

Her brother smirked from behind the bars in that annoying way he did because he thought he was the most clever arsehole in the room. "About time you Gryffindors got here," he drawled. "I was starting to think I'd have to bust myself out."

Willow rolled her eyes. She'd talked to Harry enough during her occasional volunteering in the hospital wing to recognize his sarcasm. "We would've gotten here earlier if you and your Slytherin friends told me sooner about our aunt and uncle."

On cue, Nott opened the back seat door and gave her brother a smirk. Damned Slytherins and their smug faces. They probably got taught how during their first night in the dungeons.

Willow watched as Fred (at least she was pretty sure it was Fred) tied some rope around the iron bars. The other end had been fixed to the car. 

"Hang on!" George (probably) warned as he drove the car away from the house. The bars strained under the pull, causing a loud creak that Willow was pretty sure everyone could hear. She wished the Ministry at least allowed them to cast _Quietus._ It wasn't like that would alert the muggles more than keep them unaware!

With a loud crack, the iron bars came free, leaving Harry free to climb out. He waited by the window as the car came back down so he could climb in.

Willow's heart leapt into her throat as she heard the rapid sound of a door unlocking. It wasn't as quick as magic, but she was fairly certain one of the Dursleys was opening the locked door in response to the loud tearing sound.

 _Come on, come on, come on,_ Willow thought softly. She couldn't let the others see her so flustered.

Twilight Sparkle sent her back a feeling of assurance.

They finally inched close enough for Harry to jump, but instead he turned to face the door just as it opened. A large man came through, wearing the ugliest set of pajamas Willow had ever seen.

"See ya," Harry said, giving Uncle Vernon a mocking salute before leaping backwards into the car.

Willow rolled her eyes. Damn her brother sometimes.

Their uncle stormed forward, his large frame getting stuck in the broken window as he swore obsenities at Harry, whose only response was to cackle madly as the car sped away from the muggle house and into the night sky.

* * *

_Harry_

He hid his relief at finally being sprung out. He'd seriously been considering just unlocking the door, immobilizing all of the Dursleys, and walking out the front to take the Knight Bus to Bones Manor.

Amelia wouldn't have liked it, but he couldn't take another day in there. Thankfully, his sister was a Gryffindor with almost zero impulse control.

"Theo, Blaise," he said with a small hint of surprise. He'd expected Willow's crew in the car, not his. "I take it I have you to thank for my new-found freedom?"

"We take payments in Galleons," Blaise quipped. "Good to see you, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Fred and George, thank you for lending them the car."

"How'd you know it was ours?" Fred asked. Harry thought he had a pretty good handle on which twin was which. Fred was clearly driving and George was next to Willow.

"You a Legilimens now, Harry?"

Harry snorted. "No. Your dad is a Muggle Expert, isn't he? Most wizarding families won't exactly drive cars. So, does Mister Weasley know you have this or-" he trailed off, letting them fill in the rest. He'd considered calling him Lord Weasley since the Weasleys were technically Sacred Twenty-Eight but he didn't want a fight breaking out over blood politics.

Willow turned from the front seat, huffing at Harry. "Are you ignoring me on purpose?"

"No, sorry," Harry said. "I'm still trying to think how _you_ fit into this. You know me, sis. I do appreciate the rescue. My plan would've been a bit more dramatic."

"More dramatic than a flying car?" Fred asked.

"We gotta hear this, ickle snakey Potter."

"Would've involved a Wizengamot trial, probably," Harry said, and left it at that. They all seemed to have gotten the hint. 

"No one was getting any contact with you, mate, so I asked Hermione to owl your sister if she's been getting letters from you," Theo volunteered. "She said hers had been getting blocked by a House-elf, so I figured yours were, too."

Harry nodded. "Some nutter named Dobby. I got him with an _Immobulus_ but he managed to Disapparate away."

"Underage magic at a Muggle home?" Blaise drawled. "That's illegal, you know."

"So's putting me in a cage," Harry said. "Frankly, Amelia understood, and if all goes well, my record will be clean after this."

"Nice," Theo said. "Anyway, after a bit of back and forth your sister and I decided we had no way to tell how you were doing, and since your month with the walrus family was supposed to be done, we figured you were in trouble."

"So, I flooed towards the Burrow, that's the Weasleys' place," Willow explained, "Talked Fred and George into a rescue mission and picked your friends up on the way."

"Speaking of which, there's our stop," Theo said, pointing at a mansion even larger than the Bones'. It had a smaller garden, but the actual building occupied more space. It was made of what looked to be gray bricks with a tiled roof, though the colors were hard to make out at night.

"Our?" Harry echoed.

"I'm Flooing back to Casa Zabini," Blaise said. "It's a bit far even for a flying car."

Harry nodded. Blaise's main residence was in Italy, after all, and it _did_ make sense for the two of them to make themselves scarce before they arrived at the Bones'. Amelia was fair, but Harry wasn't so sure how she felt about someone whose name ended in 'Nott.'

"Thanks for coming," Harry said, genuinely grateful.

Theo just smirked while Blaise nodded. To think he'd been worried they'd decided to cut ties with him.

As they were getting out of the car, Theo said, "Oh, right. I had a birthday gift for you. Didn't seem wise to send it by owl with you living with muggles. Guess it can wait until we get to the train."

"Same," Blaise added.

Harry grinned at them. "I'll allow it," he quipped. "I have a little summer project I'm gonna work on, anyway."

Theo huffed. "Does it involve giant snakes?"

The three Gryffindors shared baffled looks. 

Harry snorted. "I doubt it, but anything's possible. See you, mates. House-elf won't stop me from writing this time."

"We'll hold you to that," Blaise said before closing the door. 

Harry waved at his friends one more time before the car pulled back up to fly to Bones Manor.

"You can stop trying to act tough now, Will," Harry began. "The Slytherins are gone."

He smirked at her from the back, but she couldn't see him, of course.

"This is the thanks I get for rescuing you?" Willow asked. "Bloody prat."

Harry chuckled. "Say, Fred, George, I've seen a Flying Motorbike before but if Wizards can enchant bloody cars that are bigger on the inside, why do we bother with brooms?"

"Ministry's a bit sensitive when it comes to enchanting muggle things," Fred answered.

"Dad's only got one because of work," George added.

Harry nodded. Still, that meant it was theoretically possible to just enchant a carriage to fly or something. Or a battleship. Could be an interesting project at some point. He turned back to his sister. "So, did Amelia know about this little field trip or-" he trailed off.

"She does," was all Willow said, not sounding happy. 

Translation: She didn't want me to do it but I did it anyway.

Harry nodded. He couldn't blame Amelia, exactly. She'd already bent the rules a bit for him by trying to wipe his underage magic usage away. Covering for her surrogate daughter flying a magical car through the sky would put her in a poor position. It might even make people question why she was still head of the DMLE.

The car flew in silence until they arrived. Not even Fred and George felt like making wise-cracks. They knew Harry was deep in thought.

They descended in front of Bones Manor, careful not to cross over the iron fence which Harry still suspected would somehow wreck the car. Instead of the door swinging open, however, Harry was surprised to find Amelia and Susan on the other side. Susan was in her pajamas while Amelia had taken it upon herself to wear one of her elegant black robes.

"Amelia," Harry said, by way of greeting.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned. "Looks like Willow was right."

She snapped her fingers and the gates swung open.

"It was horrible!" Willow said, "They had bars on his windows! They were starving him."

Amelia's expression hardened. "Does Dumbledore know what you've been going through?"

"He's implied he has people watching the house," Harry said evenly.

The head of the Bones family shook her head. "That old fool. I'll bring this up with the others on the Wizengamot, see if anything can be done, though I suspect-"

"Actually, hold that thought," Harry said. "I don't think he's done quite enough to warrant real punishment just yet."

He hoped Amelia got his meaning: Harry did want payback, but leaving a child in an abusive home probably wouldn't be too much of a problem for a war hero. On the surface, though, he wanted it to sound like he was willing to forgive.

Amelia nodded, a slow and deliberate motion. "You do your House credit."

He had a feeling she meant Slytherin that time rather than the Potters.

"Well, let me do yours some, as well," Harry said. "I know it won't look good for you if people found out the Girl Who Lived snuck off on a flying car to save her brother, especially if we don't currently want to reveal what she saved me from."

Amelia quirked an eyebrow.

"So, Willow was never there. The Weasley Twins rescued me after hearing about a House-elf coming after me." Harry turned to Fred and George. "You don't mind putting your names down for a little mischief, do you, boys?"

"Us? Doing mischief?"

"We never."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So, say we're on bad terms right now. You don't condone our actions and as a result, I have to stay elsewhere for the summer. We can make a show of slowly patching up over the year."

"Harry, what are you saying?" Willow asked.

Amelia considered, frowning. "You're sure? I appreciate the gesture, Harry, but you don't have to. It'll take more than this to wipe away my credibility."

"No, this is better for your family," Harry said.

"Where will you stay?"

"The Weasleys, if they'll have me. If not, I can transfer over to the Longbottoms via Floo. Neville said Madam Longbottom wouldn't mind," Harry said, turning to Fred and George. He'd thought about it. "It's the best-looking outcome."

"Mum would love to have you," George said.

"So would Dad," Fred added.

"Ron'll be a pain, probably." 

"But we can help."

Amelia studied Harry carefully, and he could practically see her re-evaluating her opinion of him. She'd probably figured he'd be a lot more like his sister, but recent events had shattered that perception.

"Alright, Harry," Amelia stated. "Thank you. You have House Bones' gratitude."

"And House Bones has the Potters'," Harry answered. It was true. She'd taken Willow in and raised her like one of her own.

Harry bade them thanks and farewell before climbing back into the car, wondering what the Weasleys' place looked like.


	3. Summer Projects

The Burrow was… something, Harry realized as they pulled down to land. Far from muggle eyes and standing next to a river, it was - 

_It's an aesthetic abomination,_ Nyx offered. _I'm a Fairy. I knew what aesthetic was back when I couldn't talk, and this is definitely not it._

Harry had to agree. The Burrow defied definition. It looked like it used to be a single stone house that the Weasleys had added additional floors to over the years as their family grew more and more. There was no way the thing could've stood up without magic, which was probably the most interesting thing about it.

They'd arrived in the early morning, so the twins opted to try to sneak in without anyone's notice, but Harry didn't hold his breath. He didn't particularly like the thought of sneaking into someone's home unannounced then telling them the next day he was their guest.

They'd barely crossed the treshold when a female voice practically shrieked at them. "Where have you been?"

Harry met who must have been Molly Weasley for the first time.

"We had to get Harry out, mum."

"They had bars on his window. They were starvin' 'im!"

"You'd better hope I never put bars on your windows," Missus Weasley said, then turned to Harry with a softer expression. "Not you, of course, Harry. Wait. Harry? Which Harry?"

Harry gave her his best smile. "Harry Potter, Willow Potter's sister. Hello, Missus Weasley."

"Harry Dear, what are you doing here? I thought they'd've dropped you over at the Bones'."

"It's a long story. Mind if I sit?"

"Oh, of course! Of course!"

He spent the next half-hour wrapping Molly around his little finger, spinning a (toned down) tale of his abuse at the hands of the Dursleys, how Willow had come to rescue him, and how he'd volunteered to stay away from Amelia's place so she wouldn't get in trouble with the Ministry. He'd said it in a way that made him look thoughtful rather than cunning.

Molly looked on the verge of tears by the time he finished. The two of them had taken seats on the kitchen table, since Fred and George had to get up early to help with chores and had gone to bed.

"Of course we'd be happy to have you, Harry dear," Molly said. "You can stay with us as long as you'd like. You can use Charlie's room. He hasn't been back since he went to Romania."

Harry nodded. He remembered Charlie from the Dragon Debacle in first year. "Thank you, that'd be great."

He didn't tell her he'd be writing Neville before bed to ask if he could stay over at the Longbottoms' instead. Draining the Weasleys' resources didn't sit well with him, and neither did spending a month under the same roof as Ronald (whose name he now remembered correctly, though _he_ didn't need to know that.)

Molly showed him to Charlie's old room, which was sparsely decorated. He must've moved most of his things with him to Romania. Harry thanked her, bade her good night, and slept until noon.

* * *

Harry woke up to Mona dropping a sealed letter on his chest. He'd been so tired he hadn't even thought to ward his bed, though he supposed in hindsight, that would've been rude without asking permission if he could first. He probably still would've done it.

He was confident he could've healed anything Ronald Weasley did to him, sure, but if Dobby had any more bright ideas, it'd be another thing.

Harry opened the envelope with _diffindo_ , relishing the feeling of once again being in a place where he could do magic without worrying over the Trace, read the letter, and nodded to himself. Neville and Madam Longbottom were away on holiday, so the Longbottoms couldn't take him. That was fine. He wrote Neville back hoping they had a nice trip and to bring him any interesting books Harry could pay him for later.

He needed a shower and some breakfast, in that order.

After a quick bath, Harry descended the steps of the Burrow. It was complicated for a private residence, but it had nothing on Hogwarts. He supposed growing up here was why the Twins were so good at finding hidden places in school.

He came face to face with the (almost) full might of the Weasley family. Six heads of red hair gathered around a long table, all chattering away in a lively manner. Harry found it oddly soothing, compared to the dysfunctional family that lived in Number Four, Privet Drive. He saw Fred, George, the Prefect one whose name slipped Harry's mind, Ronald, Molly, and the last one was likely Arthur, head of the family.

"Good afternoon," Harry greeted as his feet touched the ground floor. He'd raised his voice just enough for it to cut through the scattered conversations.

The chatter halted. Ronald glared at Harry, but didn't say anything. His mother probably talked to him. Good. Harry did his best not to look smug about it.

"Harry!" Molly greeted. "Good to see you up and about. Come, come! Have some lunch! You look so skinny!"

Harry held back a frown. He _did_ feel skinny. Even though he'd spent at least two weeks of his time with the Dursleys wandering Little Whinging, he still hadn't been eating as well as he'd have liked.

He thanked her, took an empty seat at the table, and scanned the food. Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes. He could smell it from the second floor, but seeing it was different, tasting it even more so.

"This is amazing, Missus Weasley!" he said, meaning every word of it. He thought Hogwarts' food had been good, but Molly's was even better.

"Thank you, dearie, I cooked it myself," Molly said with some pride.

 _Right, no House-elves,_ Harry thought.

"So, Harry, I hear you've been living with Muggles," the man Harry presumed to be Arthur said. Harry tensed. He didn't like people prying into his life with the Dursleys. Or reminding him of it, especially when it was so fresh.

"I suppose I was, Mister Weasley," he said, trying to sound impassive.

"Excellent," Mister Weasley said. "Then you can tell me what exactly is the use of a rubber duck."

Harry's mouth fell open a bit, not sure if he was being insulted somehow or - his eyes met Fred's then George's. They were wearing matching smirks.

"Religious iconography," Harry quipped. "Muggles use it to invoke an ancient, forgotten water god."

"I knew it!" Mister Weasley beamed. "I knew Severus was lying to me."

Severus? Snape? What did Snape have to do with - _Oh_ , Harry thought, he was probably either half-blood or muggle-born. He tried to pass the amusement on his face as good natured cheer.

He got reintroduced to the Weasley family children he'd met at his and Willow's birthday the year before: Fred and George obviously, then Percy who was the Prefect (at least there was some convenient alliteration going on there), and of course, Ronald the Reject.

"Aren't we missing one?" Harry asked. He could've sworn the Weasleys had a girl.

As if on cue, the youngest Weasley came down the stairs. "Mum, have you seen my robes?"

"They're on the cot, dear," Molly answered.

Harry turned to the girl who seemed to have been unaware he'd spent the night in the Burrow. She was wearing pink pajamas, her blush almost as bright as her hair.

"Hello," Harry said casually.

"Hi," she said, looked down at her state of undress, and then bolted back up the stairs.

"Remind me who that was," Harry asked the others at the table.

"That'd be Ginny," Fred said.

"Careful with her, she's got a temper," George added.

Harry nodded his thanks. It wouldn't be the first Weasley with temper problems. He glanced at Ronald and gave him a little wink. Ronald scowled.

He offered to help clean up after lunch, but Molly scoffed and said she'd be doing the cleaning with magic, anyway, though she did ask him to stay until she finished up. Theo and Blaise had told him House Elves were more status symbols than anything else, and Harry was inclined to believe it with how quickly and effortlessly she put everything away.

In truth, if the Dursleys weren't such hateful bigots and the Ministry weren't such idiots, _he_ probably could have done the chores in a fraction of the time it took him.

Once Molly was done cleaning, she took a seat across from Harry and produced a bag full of Galleons.

"What is-" he started.

"Amelia sent this over earlier, saying she didn't want me to foster you over the summer for free," Molly said, sliding the bag over.

"Is it not enough?" Harry asked. "There's gotta be a hundred Galleons in there, at least."

"No, Harry, I mean I can't take it." Molly smiled kindly. "I wrote her back saying it wasn't necessary but she never answered, so I figured if she isn't taking it back, then you can have it."

"Missus Weasley, I can't," Harry said. "Amelia's right. It's not right for you to take another kid on when you're already feeding so many. No offense."

"None taken, dear, but I can't take it. You are _not_ a burden."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it. "Thank you, Missus Weasley."

He took the bag of Galleons and resolved to give it to Fred and George later. Waste not, want not.

* * *

Harry stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace, glad to find only old Tom the bartender present. Harry greeted him with a nod. They'd met briefly when Hagrid had brought him along on his first shopping trip the day after he'd been taken from the Dursleys.

That seemed so long ago.

Two more people came out after him, like expected: Fred and George. He'd handed them the Galleons from Amelia for their extracurricular projects on the condition that they helped him out with a little something over the summer.

The three of them walked into Quality Quidditch Supplies with barely-masked wonder. The store carried no shortage of broomsticks, Quidditch robes, and other Quidditch paraphernalia. The Nimbus 2001, successor to the Nimbus 2000 Willow had received during first year, occupied the most eye-catching position in the shop for all to see and potentially spend many galleons on. Harry considered, but thought better of it.

It would be for naught if he didn't make the team, and he was mostly trying out so he could learn how to fly better. Or so he told himself, anyway.

They walked out of the store carrying seemingly nothing, Harry's purchases stored securely in his trunk.

"So, do all the Weasleys fly?" Harry asked as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron and its Floo connection.

"Not Percy," Fred said.

"Percy's never been interested. Ginny is."

"But Mum doesn't let her."

"Says it isn't ladylike."

Harry snorted. "Funny. Amelia used to say my sister wasn't ladylike and look where she wound up."

* * *

Back at the Burrow, the three of them stepped out into the late afternoon sun. It would be setting soon, but Harry hadn't wanted to delay. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt childlike glee at the thought of trying out his purchase.

Two crates came out of his trunk first, shaking as if something inside were trying to break out. The next were three longer, thinner crates he'd stacked the first two on top of.

They opened those first. A thick, wooden bat reinforced with metal waited inside each one. Harry's hand touched the grip, and he felt a surge of strength well up within him. He'd been informed, of course, that Beater's Bats were enchanted to make it easier for the Beaters to hit the Bludgers as they flew through the sky (they would've had to be superhuman otherwise) but actually _feeling_ it was something else. The club seemed to weigh nothing in his hand, and yet he knew something that thick and sturdy would probably make a dent in most things it hit.

"Why don't people ever use these as weapons?" Harry asked.

The twins looked at each other, holding identical bats to his (the Weasleys had brooms and a quaffle, but no snitches, bats or bludgers) and then at him.

"We're wizards, mate."

"Why smack someone in the head with a big stick when you can just jinx 'em?"

 _Because if you smash someone's head hard enough, no amount of magic is going to get them back up,_ Harry thought but didn't say.

His mind flashed back to how the Mountain Troll had nearly killed him with a giant piece of wood and decided that wizards simply weren't as well-versed in violence as muggles were. 

He'd read _Quidditch Through the Ages._ It had taken the better part of a century before wizards finally made Bludgers that didn't get destroyed by Beater's Bats. He doubted the Dark Lord's skull would fare much better.

He didn't bother asking why no one ever used Bludgers, which were pretty much magical self-propelled cannonballs, as weapons since he'd probably get the same answer.

"You've handled Bludgers before," he instead said. "Any tips?"

The twins grinned. 

"Don't let them hit you."

"Make sure they hit the other guy."

Harry rolled his eyes as they snickered. He swallowed his nervousness as he took up a position on the far side of the dirt road. They'd walked several paces from the Burrow to make sure they didn't accidentally break any windows. Magic would've fixed it easily, but again, he didn't want to be more of a burden than necessary. He'd had Nyx stay inside just in case. He didn't fancy her accidentally getting squashed by an iron ball twice her size.

He breathed, brought the bat into position with both hands. They'd be practicing on the ground for now, because his skinny frame trying to hit a Bludger in midair didn't seem like a great idea, enchantment or no. They supposedly had safeties built in to prevent serious injury, but accidents happened. Not to mention, it would probably hurt. A lot.

Fred gave him a glance to ask if he was ready. Harry nodded. One crate slid open. Fred pointed his wand down and cast _Diffindo_ on the harness, his own Beater's Bat already in his other hand.

A ten-inch iron ball shot straight up into the air, seemed to take in its surroundings despite having no eyes, and then sped towards Harry like flying death. His knuckles turned white from gripping the wood so hard, but he kept his eyes open as the Bludger hurtled closer and closer.

There was a loud smack as the bat connected, sending the Bludger back into the air. It veered away, headed for George, who swatted it away with practiced ease.

The three of them trained against the single Bludger for over an hour, after which all of them (well, just Harry, really since the twins were used to it) were spent. They resolved to keep going at it over the summer, though not every day, since Harry had other things he wanted to work on, and the twins had chores.

Once the three of them parted ways, Harry considered downing his Wiggenweld, but decided against it. He wanted to have at least one for emergencies. Perhaps after he restocked ingredients in Diagon Alley.

After dinner, he found himself gazing out the window, cursing himself for not buying any new books from Flourish and Blotts while he'd been out. He supposed he didn't _have_ to be doing something productive with every second of his time, so he allowed himself to enjoy the peace of being so far away from the Dursleys. Or anyone, really. The Burrow seemed like its own island, if you considered the lack of neighbors.

Said peace was broken when he spotted a lone figure sneaking into the broom shed. His first instinct was _Voldemort_ but then he realized how short said figure was.

 _Dobby?_ Harry thought, wand flicking out of its holster. _Nyx, see who that is._

_Of course, Harry._

If it was Voldemort, of course, he'd Floo back to Bones Manor as fast as possible after warning the Weasleys. He didn't wait long before Nyx messaged him back.

_It's the youngest Weasley._

Oh. Ginny sneaking into the broom shed? He wondered if she was trying to run away or - No, more likely she just wanted to get some flying in. If Fred and George were right (and he had no reason to suspect they'd told him otherwise), Molly didn't let Ginny fly.

Because Harry had nothing better to do that night, he watched as Ginny unlocked the shed, took a broom out, and started doing Quidditch drills with it. She was good, based on Harry's limited knowledge of Quidditch maneuvers.

He considered joining her, but decided against it. His arms were sore from Beater practice, and he had a long day interacting with people he didn't know very well in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the curious, we won't be going to Hogwarts for a few more chapters. Harry is a busy boy.


	4. Summer Projects, Part Two

Harry came out of the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace for the second time in as many days, though this time he'd come with only Nyx and he hadn't slept in the whole morning.

He greeted Tom with a nod, ignoring the few patrons enjoying late breakfasts. He'd broken fast at the Burrow himself before taking a shower and putting on some of the Carriage robes Daphne had gotten him for Christmas. His hair was slicked back by the product from Blaise, which he realized he'd probably need to buy more of at some point. Or learn how to make on his own, he supposed, but that seemed like a bad use of his time given his barely-touched inheritance.

Speaking of which, Harry had a clear goal that day which would probably drain his Trust Vault significantly, but assuming it worked like he imagined, it would prove useful in the coming years.

He found Carriage easily enough, having marked the store the year before as the one that had taken the most of his money. The interior looked about the same: brightly-lit, with glass shelves displaying various fashionable bags enchanted to hold contents several times their size. Those weren't why he was here, though.

The same man who'd accommodated him last year spotted him come in, eyes lighting up in recognition. "Heir Potter! So good to see you again. I see you're wearing robes from our sister store in Horizont Alley."

Harry put on a charming smile. "Mister Edwards, I see you're still running the place. Good to know I'm in good hands."

The last time he'd been here he hadn't yet read up on proper wizarding forms of address.

"You flatter me, Heir Potter, and please, call me Zain."

"Zain it is, then."

"What can I do for you today? Our products are made to last, and as I recall, you already bought a trunk and bag from us."

"I was hoping to make a custom order," Harry started. "Is that something Carriage does?"

"Well, we at Carriage pride ourselves on producing only the most fashionable items," Zain answered. "But if you really want us to make a bag just for you, I can put you in contact with our designer."

"No, actually. Not a bag. I was hoping you could build a custom trunk for me."

Zain blinked, but recovered quickly, to his credit. "Pardon, Heir Potter, but we don't usually do that. Trunks are a lot more difficult (and expensive, Harry thought) to make. If you're looking to upgrade, our top of the line models are the best in the market."

"But you _can_ do it?" Harry pressed. "I'm looking for some very specific things."

"Well, not me personally," Zain said. "I just do sales. Our enchanter could help you, but I can't make that decision. You'd need to clear it with the owners first. You're sure I can't interest you in our top model? It comes with its own Potions lab and reading room."

"Just so I'm not in the dark pricing-wise, how much is the top model?" Harry asked.

"Er, one thousand Galleons."

Harry nodded. It was basically a small house if you remodeled the inside a bit, and if you looked at it that way, a thousand Galleons was actually rather cheap. He supposed Carriage couldn't charge _too_ much for trunks if they wanted not to lose every sale to their competitors.

"Right," Harry said. "How would I go about contacting the owners?"

"Wait one moment. I'll tell them about your request."

Harry took the lone black leather bench in the store and waited while Zain disappeared into the back. He came back shortly after looking like he'd just had the most surreal experience.

That had been faster than expected. Owls didn't fly that quickly. Harry made a mental note to check if there were any other means of communication available to wizards and figure out why they all relied on owls if there were faster options.

"Good news, Heir Potter," Zain started. "The owners have agreed to your request on some conditions."

"Name them," Harry said.

"They didn't tell me, I'm afraid. This is a bit over my paygrade. One of them is on her way here with a legal document and a lawyer."

Harry forced his face to stay impassive. What had he gotten himself into? Zain asked him to come into the back. He considered the possibility of this being some kind of trap, but reasoned his family's enemies wouldn't have had time to prepare anything for his sudden arrival. Besides, he had Nyx and the Key on him. The latter he'd unlooped from its string and floated in place against his torso under his clothes. He'd been getting better at making it do what he wanted, and keeping it steady against him was good practice.

Harry found himself in a large but minimalist office with a single desk he surmised to be Zain's as well as a set of four easy chairs surrounding a rectangular table. An inert fireplace sat in one corner of the room, which Harry suspected to be a private Floo connection.

Zain directed him to take one of the four chairs while he waited. Zain remained standing. Harry guessed his role in this would end as soon as the owner and their legal representative arrived.

The fireplace came alive with green fire a moment later, and a woman wearing a crisp black suit and jeans walked out of it. She had shoulder-length blond hair and a pale complexion. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of black sunglasses. He noticed her clutching a folder under her arm.

"Heir Potter?" she asked as she took her seat in front of him.

"That would be me, yes," Harry replied. "Are you the owner or-"

"Helena Woods-Greengrass," the woman spoke, the hint of a smirk appearing on her face. "No, I'm not the owner. I'm the legal representative."

Harry tried to maintain his composure. Greengrass? That couldn't have been a common name, right? And she did bear some resemblance to Daphne. Still, she looked too young to be Daphne's mother. At least he wasn't meeting Daphne's parents to discuss legal matters. That would've felt awkward.

The fireplace came to life again, and out stepped Daphne wearing a set of elegant black robes. The Nyx Brooch was pinned on the right side of her chest. Harry's mouth fell open.

She spotted him immediately and smirked, putting a hand on her hip. "I know I'm gorgeous, Harry, but you don't have to gawk. Zain, Helena and I can take it from here. Good work."

"Yes, Heir Greengrass," Zain answered. He shot Harry what almost felt like an apologetic look before heading back to the front. 

Harry promptly closed his mouth and schooled his face into a controlled smile. "Hey, Daph. Now I get why you sent me all those clothes."

She sneered at him as she moved to take the seat across from his. "Because I didn't want to be seen hanging around with someone who has no fashion sense?"

Helena cleared her throat. "Cousin, you didn't tell me you and Heir Potter were friends."

Daphne glanced at her older cousin. "Fairly recent development, honestly. It was him or Malfoy."

The lawyer nodded solemnly, seeming to understand everything from just that one sentence. Harry didn't bother feigning hurt. Daphne wouldn't have been wearing his gift if she hadn't actually accepted his friendship.

"So, Heir Potter, Zain tells us you wanted to have custom work done for a trunk?" Helena started. "Despite his offer of Carriage's top-of-the-line model, might I add."

"That's right," Harry answered. "And please, it's Harry. Heir Potter sounds too much like calling me by my full name."

Now that he knew she was from a branch of the Greengrass family it was socially acceptable for them to be on a first name basis.

"Call me Helena, then. Harry, I'm going to need an idea of what kind of trunk you're having Carriage's enchanter make, exactly."

"Carriage's? Not yours?" Harry inquired.

"Carriage belongs to the main family," Daphne explained. "Mother usually handles things but she's been showing me the ropes."

Harry nodded. That explained a lot. "I'd need to have some idea what kinds of enchantments are possible, but one of my reasons is academic. I've been exposed to a variety of wondrous objects in the past year."

"You're willing to drop hundreds of Galleons to sate your curiosity?" Helena asked, sounding incredulous.

Harry smiled thinly. "The Potter Vaults can afford it."

"You know," Daphne said, a knowing gleam in her eyes. "The head of a noble house usually has an unwritten responsibility to leave the vaults richer than they found it."

Translation: I know you know that, so this is more than just academic interest, isn't it?

"I'm just a little boy still," Harry spoke softly to emphasize the part where he was a kid. "I can think of those things when I'm older."

Translation: You bet your arse, it is. I'll tell you later.

"Give him the usual conditions," Daphne said, blue eyes narrowed and calculating.

"If you say so, cousin." Helena pulled out a stack of papers from the folder and slid it over for Harry to read.

She was nice enough to run him through it, though he'd been prepared to figure it out on his own if she hadn't. Essentially, they were entering a legal contract entailing that Carriage held the intellectual property rights to anything their enchanter(s) concocted while working on Harry's custom order. He'd been hoping his innocent child front would've prevented something like this, but he supposed fair was fair. Another condition had been that he would tell no one, whether directly or indirectly, about the location of the enchanter.

"Wait," Harry said. "Am I even allowed to sign this? I'm a minor."

"Yes, but you're also the next head of your House which gives you partial legal control of the Potter family vaults since no one is holding regency," Helena explained. "You can't go to jail but breaching the contract would allow Carriage to seek recompense from your family vault."

"Got it," Harry said, signing the document. He turned to Daphne. "Are you signing or-"

Daphne sniffed as if he should've known the answer to that and shook her head. "Mother has to do it. Cousin, could you please take it back to her?"

"You're not coming?"

"I have to take Harry to meet our enchanter," Daphne said. He had a feeling someone else could've done that, but kept quiet.

Helena nodded. If she saw what her cousin was doing, she didn't say a word about it. One shout of 'Greengrass Manor' later and she vanished into the private Floo connection, leaving Harry and Daphne alone in the room.

"So, what are you really up to?" she asked, surprisingly blunt for her.

Harry smirked. "Trying to find non-conventional uses for everyday wizarding items."

Daphne considered, then asked, "Is this about the thing that lost Slytherin the House Cup?"

Harry nodded. "Got it in one. I've been studying Bludgers and Beater's Bats, too."

She thought for a moment, then nodded. "A trunk, though?"

"If what I'm thinking works out, yes. Interested?"

She sneered at him. "You _do_ remember the inetellectual property rights of whatever you wind up making go to me and my family, right?"

"All the more reason for you to come along," Harry said. "If you're there firsthand, you and the enchanter would be the two people who knew the most about it."

"You think I don't have better things to do with my summer?"

"Way I see it, you'd still be doing business for Carriage, and isn't that what you were doing anyway?"

Perhaps he was laying it on a bit thick, but he _did_ want Daphne more firmly in his camp, and not just because he wanted to complete the set of Theo, Blaise and Daphne. She'd gotten private quarters during first year, which meant the Greengrasses were held in similar regard as the Malfoys.

He wouldn't say no to more Christmas gifts, either. He'd been meaning to buy better clothes at some point and here was the future owner of a designer brand. Definitely a connection he didn't mind building up.

Of course, Daphne knew all that, too.

"Fine. I have to introduce you anyway."

It went without saying that she'd leave if she didn't see anything compelling.

Harry almost grinned, but managed to contain it to an easy smile. Daphne rolled her eyes. He followed her to the fireplace, where she instructed him to yell 'Mishra's Workshop' before vanishing in green fire. He followed suit shortly after.

* * *

A plain white room surrounded Harry as he stepped out of the private Floo connection. There was nothing present except for the dying fireplace and Daphne, who eyed him patiently as he re-oriented himself.

His wand snapped out of its holster. He sent Nyx a thought to be ready to Glamour him up. "What's going on, Daph?"

Daphne looked at him as if she'd just found an annoying insect and huffed. "Calm down, Harry. This location is a Greengrass secret."

Her look seemed to say 'You didn't really think just anyone could get in, did you?'

He resisted the urge to wince and withdrew his wand. "Sorry. Been a bit jumpy since-" he trailed off.

Daphne nodded and didn't say another word. She sauntered over to the blank wall and tapped it with her fist once, then twice, then once again. It parted, much like Diagon Alley's entrance did, and revealed a long corridor that was similarly plain and white.

"Corridor's lined with all sorts of defenses," she explained as she walked forward. "Anyone coming in here unannounced is in for a bad day."

Harry stopped at the mention of defenses. She must have heard his steps cease because she glanced back at him. A hint of a smirk appeared on her face. "Don't worry. They knew we were coming."

Harry nodded and followed her in. The corridor ended in another false wall that opened with a series of taps. Two-one-three this time, Harry noted as it opened up.

The room was plain white marble as before, but wider and with a high ceiling. Harry thought it might have been a fourth of the size of Hogwarts' Great Hall, at least.

Harry counted three people inside, each working on a different project: A woman with dark hair and fair skin working on a metal trunk with her wand raised, a smaller gentleman (probably half-goblin like Flitwick, Harry thought) with blond hair attending to a handbag, and finally a tall, dark-skinned man with a shaved head who was in the middle of turning raw fabric into a dress.

"Daphne!" the tall man said when he spotted her, "So good to see you! I was wondering when you would visit."

Daphne smiled thinly at him. "Marick. It has been a while, hasn't it?"

The man laughed. "Victoria been running you ragged? John, David, come here!"

"Mother's been teaching me the ropes, yes."

The other two left their work after another second and came forward. The woman looked disgruntled while the smaller man seemed happy for the distraction.

"It is Johanna right now, Marick darling," the woman said with a slight accent. _Russian_ , Harry thought, though he could've been wrong. "I haven't been John in months."

"Sorry, Johanna," Marick answered. "Slip of the tongue."

The woman grunted, but seemed to forgive him. She turned her eyes to Daphne and Harry, a smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, and who is this you bring with you, Daphne?"

Her face warped and transformed until Harry was staring at a taller mirror image of himself. "I thought you were bringing someone with a custom trunk order." The voice remained female, Harry noted, which felt weird coming from someone who looked almost exactly like him.

"That's him, alright," Daphne said. "You thought he'd be taller?"

"Appearances can be deceiving," Johanna said, and as if to emphasize she turned back into the woman he'd seen working on the trunk. "Johanna Ivanova, at your service. You can close your mouth now."

Harry blinked and pulled his jaw shut. He hadn't even noticed it drop. "Harry Potter," he said simply. "That was brilliant. Any chance you could teach me?"

Flattery was a Slytherin's most common weapon.

She grinned at him with spotless teeth. "Metamorphmagus. Can't be learned, I'm afraid. Something I was born with."

"It _has_ been a while, hasn't it?" Daphne said. "Last time I saw you over the holidays you were the other you."

"And I might change back soon," Johanna answered. "I've been Johanna since January. John's getting the urge."

"How've you been, David?" Daphne asked, addressing the small man.

David smiled. "Doin' alright. Could use a few vacation days if you feel like asking the boss for me."

Daphne smiled thinly. "I'll see what I can do."

The smaller man grinned. "I won't hold my breath, then."

Johanna cleared her throat. "So, you wanted a special trunk? Sorry, David, but we _are_ on the clock here."

"Right, I did," Harry said. "Er, thing is, I don't know the limits of what you can do."

The woman nodded. "Very well, we can discuss in break room over tea." She turned to Daphne. "And hot chocolate, of course."

"You know me too well," Daphne said.

'Daph likes hot chocolate,' Harry filed away for later.

As the group parted so Marick and David could go back to work, Harry, Daphne and Johanna headed off to a long table with what looked like a sink. Harry didn't see any cooking paraphernalia but then, he'd never seen the Hogwarts Kitchens either.

A moment later, he and Johanna were nursing cups of tea while Daphne got her own cup of hot chocolate. Johanna ran him through the various enchantments trunks typically held, but while Harry was interested in those, he had other questions.

"I know I can will my trunk to shrink and grow without touching it," Harry began. "Would it be possible to have it do other things from a distance?"

"Like what?"

"Move, open and close to specific compartments for starters."

"High end trunks already come with self-propeling enchantment," Johanna answered. "They grow legs and follow the owner. I believe yours has this functionality."

Harry nodded. "But is it possible to make it move besides following me?"

"Da, can make it move short distance to where you can see, but that's about it."

"Is it possible to remove the distance limit?"

"Easily, but only on new trunk," Johanna answered. "Usual movement enchantment is entirely different, built as safety so trunk doesn't accidentally get lost."

"What about opening and closing from a distance?"

"Not impossible, but seems useless since you would need to place and remove contents yourself, and enchantments protect trunk from _accio._ "

"I'm aware, but what about the opposite spell? The banishing charm?"

Johanna's brow furrowed. "Not recommended. _Depulso_ lacks precision of _Accio._ Contents would fly out of the compartment in straight line upwards, likely causing damage to objects." 

Harry frowned. "It would only fly straight up?"

"Based on standard trunk structure, yes." Johanna sipped her tea.

"And if we didn't use the standard trunk structure?" Harry asked. "What if the trunk opened up at the side instead of the top?"

"It could work. But why do you want this feature for your trunk?"

Daphne, who'd been silently watching the conversation, chimed in. "Because he's insane."

The look she gave him told him she was following his line of thought, though.

Harry smirked, glad she was as perceptive as usual. "There's a thin line between madness and genius. So, it's doable?"

Johanna shot Daphne a questioning look, but Daphne only nodded. "Da, but will need to do custom metalwork for it to open up the way you want it to. How many compartments do you need?" 

"Five- no, seven, preferrably five with preservation charms and two without. Standard bigger-on-the-inside stuff, too."

Johanna snorted. "You want me to make it fly, too?"

Harry bit his lip. "Wait, can you do that?"

The woman blinked at him. "Was joking, but technically possible. Would be slow. Not like a broomstick or car."

"Say, is it possible for a trunk to- No, that's dumb," Harry said. "I'm assuming if it can fly it can rotate in midair?"

"I suppose," Johanna said. It seemed she'd given up on questioning his requests.

"Excellent. Oh, one more thing, how resistant are trunks to damage?"

"Very. Can survive fall from top of Hogwarts with only slight dent."

"What about magical damage? What if, say, someone casts _Bombarda_ on a trunk?"

"Would be resistant, still. Will not survive several blasts, but one or two would not destroy it."

"Brilliant. How long will it take you and how much will it cost me?"

After some calculations (during which Harry finished his tea), Johanna said, "Five hundred Galleons. Can have it done day after tomorrow."

Harry nodded. Cheaper than he expected, but then, his trunk wasn't going to have an entire room inside it. "Can I try it out by that time?"

"Da, but if you want any changes, it will cost extra."

"More than fair," Harry said. He pulled out five hundred Galleons from his Money Bag and placed it on the table. "Thank you, Miss Ivanova."

"Johanna," she told him. "I have a feeling we will be working on things like this for a while, so you may as well."

Harry smiled at her. "Call me Harry, then."

Daphne said her goodbyes to David and Marick before leading him out the long corridor and back to the plain room with the fireplace.

"So, why is this place called _Mishra's Workshop_?" Harry asked.

"Previous owner. Brilliant enchanter, I'm told, but he was before my time. Kept the name since it made it harder for spies to get in."

They continued in silence for a while.

"Bludgers?" she asked as they faced the inert fireplace.

Harry nodded. "You ever considered being a detective?"

"But you don't need a Banishing Charm for those," she said. "Or a side-facing opening. They'd just fly up."

Again, Harry nodded, not offering her any clues. He had a feeling she'd be insulted if he did without her asking.

"Oh," Daphne finally said. "Neville's Potions mishaps."

Harry favored her with a smile. "Among other things. Sharp as always, Daphne."

She snorted, though she looked pleased with herself for figuring it out. "I would hope I'm sharp enough to see through a 'little boy' and his plots. Otherwise, House Greengrass would be ruined."

Harry thought he saw a hint of vulnerability, but it vanished so quickly he couldn't have been sure. "Well, if you ever need help, House Potter will be your ally."

"A House of two children," Daphne drawled. "Thank Merlin, we're saved."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of.... well, not curiosity. Out of a desire to improve, what do you guys think about how I've written these stories? Like the style, with the jumbled thoughts of Harry blending into the narrative?


	5. Summer Projects, Finale

Bludger practice with Fred and George consumed all of the next day. They started in the morning, stopped for lunch (during which Harry ate more than he could ever remember eating at once), then went back at it until four in the afternoon.

They called it quits after Harry's arms felt like they'd fall right off his shoulders. Several shots of _Episkey_ and a Wiggenweld helped. He'd finally restocked Potions ingredients after parting ways with Daphne.

He gave himself a second shower before dinner and gorged himself again. Swinging the Beater's Bat for hours on end worked up an appetite. Luckily, Missus Weasley seemed pleased if anything that he liked her cooking so much.

Ronald had called him a pig, which was ironic given the difference in their table manners. Harry let it go without comment, not having the energy to put up with him for the day.

That night while leafing through the Third Year Potions book, Harry kept glancing out his window to see if the youngest Weasley would violate her mother's orders again. 

It was half past nine when he saw the short figure cross the lawn to the broom shed.

_Nyx?_

_You're Glamoured, Harry._

Harry loved having a Familiar. He crept down the stairs, careful not to make any sound because that was something Nyx couldn't cover. The front door was unlocked, of course, since Ginny had needed to get out _somehow._

He caught up to her just as she came out of the shed holding a broom. He couldn't tell which from just the appearance, of course. He wasn't obsessed with Quidditch like his sister and Ronald were.

She saw something and her wand snapped out of her pocket, aimed at him. He noticed she looked pale under the moonlight.

_Did you drop the Glamour?_ Harry asked.

_You're standing alone in the middle of an empty bloody field, Harry. I can only do so much._

Harry conceded that. He'd been about to ask her to drop it anyway. He gave Ginny a grin that would've impressed the Cheshire cat. "Good evening."

"Harry!" she said, seeming to recognize him at last. "What the bloody hell are you doing out here?"

"I'd ask you the same, but I already saw you flying around last night."

"You were _spying_ on me?" she asked. "Ron was right. I didn't believe it but you _are_ an evil Slytherin."

"Hardly," Harry answered. "I _am_ a Slytherin, yes, but if you thought that was synonymous with 'evil' you would've just called me a Slytherin. I just wanted to get in some flying practice."

That seemed to give her pause. "Are you trying out for Quidditch? I saw you practicing with Fred and George."

Harry smirked, heedless of the wand she had pointed at him. "Now who's spying on whom?"

Ginny looked affronted. "You and the twins have been at it for two days. Of course I'd see."

"Well, I've only been practicing on the ground so far, and I haven't been on a broom in months. How's your flying?"

"Pretty good," she said with some pride. "Not as good as Fred and George, of course. Not yet, anyway."

"Then what do you say, Ginny, care to fly with a Slytherin in the pale moonlight?"

She did _not_ fly with a Slytherin in the pale moonlight. 

Ginny and Harry wound up taking opposite sides of the field and doing individual flying drills. He'd been fascinated that they both seemed to have _some_ knowledge of Quidditch flying maneuvers. He suspected they'd read the same books.

They stopped after three hours of flying, locked up the broom shed, and headed back in, locking the front door behind them.

* * *

_Release Quaffle,_ Harry commanded.

The metal trunk opened up and the Quaffle he'd placed inside shot out at alarming speed, slamming into the wall and bouncing far past the trunk before descending slowly to the ground.

"Brilliant," Harry remarked, unable to contain his grin.

"Congratulations, you can now play catch by yourself," Daphne quipped.

Harry ignored her, knowing full well she was aware of how dangerous an incorrectly-brewed Potion launched at that speed could be.

_Fly,_ he ordered, and the trunk floated up at an unnaturally-straight angle. It functioned, he supposed, but it looked inelegant as hell. Maybe he could have Johanna adjust the flying charm on it a little to simulate thrusters at the bottom or something.

* * *

By mid-August, Harry finally felt comfortable enough to practice with the Bat in midair. He left his wand in his trunk because he didn't want it to accidentally snap or anything.

He'd kept up his schedule of flying at night with Ginny (thought they still spent most of their time on individual practice). Nevertheless, staying at the Burrow meant Harry was privy to the Weasley Family's dynamics. He knew that Ginny got along well with the twins and was largely ignored by Percy. No one really liked Ron, which hardly surprised him.

One of the few times they did talk, Ginny had let it slip how she hated how her mother doted on her and never let her do anything. He found he could sympathize, having been locked up for most of his life.

* * *

The trunk flew through the air, still appearing a bit awkward given its rectangular shape, but it looked and handled better than it had the first time, even if it kind of looked like a giant, flying black brick.

Daphne had stopped coming since the past week had been all about adjusting the flying charm and she'd turned her nose up at the inelegant appearance of the trunk flying around. She'd seen enough, essentially, and had other things to do with her summer.

He couldn't exactly blame her for that. Still, he thought he'd done enough to strengthen the tentative connection he'd made during the previous year. That he'd gotten the opportunity at all had been a stroke of luck in the first place. He had no idea the Greengrasses owned Carriage.

The original plan had been to slowly win her over during second year, but Harry supposed good things really did happen from time to time. He could probably work on Tracey next, then maybe get Daphne and Tracey to convince Pansy to defect from Malfoy.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing?" Ginny asked Harry one night.

Harry took his time answering, seeing as how he was currently breathing very hard. "Pull-ups," he eventually said. "For strengthening my core."

He'd had the broom float in place above him, using it as a makeshift pull-up bar. All the Beater practice had strengthened his arms to the point he was confident he could lift his own (very light) weight. It just so happened he couldn't do it for very long.

"Why?" she asked.

"Makes it easier to stay on broom when you hit something," he answered. "Among other things."

"You are bizarre."

He grinned at her. "You just noticed?"

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"So, wanna do Chaser drills?" he asked.

"I thought you were trying out for Beater."

"I can hit the Bludger at people better if I know how they're going to move. I've got a Quaffle and everything."

The girl took her time answering. "You're on."

Like he'd suspected, Ginny had a way with flying that almost matched Willow's. She was a bit better than him, even, but that was alright. Being a Beater was less about actual flying and more observation and knowing how to cause the most damage to the opposition. Those, he had some talent for.

* * *

" _Avis!_ "

A single bird with a long, sharp beak appeared before him, gliding down to stand on the floor. It stood nearly as tall as he did, though he did still have some growing to do.

He looked at the picture book of various birds around the world (something he'd bought over the summer on a trip to the nearby muggle town for groceries). The bird was called an Anhinga, or 'Snake Bird,' and primarily ranged in the americas. 

He'd thought the name was poetic, but after reading about it some more, he decided to give it a shot. Its upper body had a black-green coloration that turned to blue near the bottom. It reminded him of the Black Lake, and in truth, the bird could swim, submerging itself to pierce fish from below with its long neck and beak.

Harry tossed an apple at the bird, silently commanding it to strike. It did so with the precision of a practiced predator, impaling the apple on its beak.

Nyx eyed the bird with unease. _Why do you keep practicing that spell?_

_I'll show you._

" _Engorgio!_ "

The apple exploded as the Anhinga grew, its beak now thicker than Harry's arm.

_Bloody hell, Harry!_

He and his friends had both been right, of course: Even at a height that loomed over Harry (and probably every other human in the Burrow), the bird was non-magical, and even he, a barely-trained wizard, could have stunned it or knocked it back or stopped it any other number of ways with no problem. Still, he doubted he could survive getting impaled by it, wizard or no. None of his other spells except perhaps a well-placed _Diffindo_ could make that claim, and in large enough numbers, giant snakebirds could swing a fight in his favor.

The issue was how he would carry multiple copies around in his new trunk without them expiring. Transfigurations never lasted forever, especially not straight-up conjuration like he was doing. _Avis_ lasted an hour by default, but could be extended to two with magical investment. The Preservation Charms in a Trunk would extend that by ten times, but even with almost twenty hours he'd need to recreate the birds every day.

It was just too much trouble for such a niche trick.

He was tempted to write McGonagall to ask if she knew any tricks for extending it longer, but decided against it. Students weren't supposed to be practicing magic during the summer.

" _Finite incantatem._ "

The bird vanished from existence, taking the Engorgement Charm with it. It was only after the bird was gone that he realized he'd forgotten to test if it could still fly at that size.

Harry swore and prepared the spell again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally done with Harry's summer projects. Hope it didn't drag too long. Next chapter is the usual annual Diagon Alley visit where nothing will deviate from canon and absolutely zero plots will be hatched.


	6. Diagonally, Year Two

Harry had gotten familiar with the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron over the summer. He'd spent many days working with Johanna to have his custom trunk modified, not to mention a few more just to check if there was anything interesting to buy.

He'd found a new Ritual in _Getting Even More Familiar_ that would allow him to sacrifice a component of a magical creature or plant onto Nyx, granting her a portion of that object's power permanently. Unfortunately, he could only do it once and none of the ingredients sold in normal apothecaries seemed particularly compelling.

He supposed he could have taken a bit off the sleeping Troll in his trunk (He still had no idea what Quirrell had done to it, but the Preservation Charm kept it small and asleep) and given Nyx some of its strength and resilience, but that seemed like a stupid idea on a five-inch Fairy. Magic or no, it wasn't like she would be able to cave someone's head in with her little hands.

He stood a bit to the side as the Weasleys filed out of the fireplace. With the school year starting soon and Ginny officially receiving her Hogwarts Letter, the Weasley family were out in force to buy their school supplies. Harry might have done his shopping earlier with his friends but Theo and Daphne were busy with family stuff and couldn't find a day that worked for both of them.

Blaise and Tracey, on the other hand, were seated at a table in the Leaky Cauldron pretending not to notice him and doing a decent job at it. Harry snorted and walked over to them.

"Tracey darling, I can't believe you've done this," Harry drawled, leaning on their table. "I thought we had something special."

She flashed him a sharp-toothed grin. Her red eyes were concealed by a thick pair of sunglasses. "Oops, I did it again."

"One can hardly fault the lady for falling to my charms," Blaise quipped. "What a coincidence it is to run into you here, Harry."

"Indeed. Such a fortuitous stroke of good fortune." The Weasleys had been nice, but he missed playing word games with his friends. "How else would I have known that you're cheating on me with Tracey?"

Blaise smirked. "You must have me confused with Theo. He's the one you offered to be your side piece, remember?"

"You wound me, Blaise. We shared a room for over a year. Surely that meant something."

"What the other girls would give to witness this," Tracey said, lowering the sunglasses for emphasis.

Harry rolled his eyes, but grinned. "You sure you don't mind tagging along with the Weasleys?"

"Did you bring Nyx?" Blaise asked.

Harry nodded. "Ronald's here, too."

A smirk that promised mischief. "I'm game, then."

"Don't look at me," Tracey said. "I'm not even Pure-blood. No issue whatsoever."

"I'd say you're welcome to steal a few secrets from Ronald but he'd probably volunteer them on his own."

Tracey grinned back. "As if I needed your permission."

Harry brought his Slytherin friends over under the guise that he'd 'just run into them' and asked if they could accompany them while shopping.

Blaise and Tracey were model students as he introduced them to Ginny, Arthur, and Molly. He'd had nagging doubts, but it seemed Blaise really was fine with the Weasleys ignoring etiquette if it meant he could see Ronald's furious face.

The fireplace came alive one more time and out popped Willow, her robes slightly askew. Harry sighed and straightened it out for her. "Honestly, sister. Would it have killed you to get up early and get dressed on time?"

"Oh, shut up, Harry."

Susan came out a moment later, greeting everyone politely, but otherwise keeping to herself and Willow.

They hadn't been out of the Leaky Cauldron for a minute when Harry spotted Hermione's bushy hair in the crowd. She was with a pair of adults in muggle clothes Harry presumed to be her parents.

He shot Blaise a glance but the boy only smiled thinly at him.

_Nyx, go say hi,_ Harry thought.

She darted off, flew a circle around the bushy-haired girl, and then came back. Harry waved at her to join them.

"Harry!" she greeted as she spotted him. "Blaise, Tracey, Willow."

It got awkward as she greeted every single person in the party she knew.

"Good to see you, Hermione," Harry said.

"And you. I'm sorry I wasn't there when- well, I heard what happened."

"S'alright. You weren't really in a position to floo to the Burrow." Harry smirked. "Besides, it might've gotten you expelled."

Hermione bit her lip, prompting snickers from Harry, Blaise, and Tracey.

* * *

" _Why_ do we need seven books for Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry asked aloud as he inspected the shopping list on their way to Flourish and Blotts. He'd read it beforehand, of course, but making a scene got other people to chime in.

Blaise and Tracey shot him glances. It seemed they'd noticed, too.

"And they're all written by the same guy," Ronald added.

Harry shot him a look that said 'Way to go, Captain Obvious,' but Ronald didn't seem to catch it, so Harry instead ignored the comment.

"Wonder what kind of madness our DADA professor is going to be this year," he said dryly.

"Couldn't be worse than last year's, could it?" Blaised quipped.

"Depends on what your criteria is for 'worse.' Do you know anything, Tracey?"

She shook her head. "It's not like whoever it is would announce it to the Prophet."

Harry's lips twitched to a half-smile. "So what you're saying is, your father _didn't_ hear about it?"

His friends didn't laugh.

"Uh, Harry?" Hermione said, pointing behind him.

Harry resisted the urge to wince and looked where she'd been pointing. He saw Draco Malfoy with a tall man who had long, flowing platinum blond hair walking towards Flourish and Blotts.

He walked into the book store without another word, hoping his voice hadn't carried all the way.

A large crowd halted his progress. Harry frowned. He loved books as much as anyone, but this was a bit ridiculous.

"Huh," he heard Tracey say. He glanced where she was looking and found a sign.

'Book Signing Today by World-Famous Author Gilderoy Lockhart'

Harry bit his lip. Could the Weasleys have picked a worse day to-

"It's him!" Molly squealed. Arthur rolled his eyes.

Harry suddenly had the feeling scheduling the shopping trip today hadn't been an accident. In truth, the fact that the man whose textbooks they were using for second year DADA was having a book signing smelled suspicious.

He signalled his friends to help him get through the crowd and to the second floor using a combination of well-placed elbows, kicks, and on occasion, stinging hexes.

He wasn't surprised to see only Tracey and Blaise had joined him. The Weasleys, Grangers, Willow, and Susan were in line for the book signing after grabbing copies of the required textbooks. Harry browsed the shelves while keeping half an eye on the proceedings below.

The crowd (which Harry now saw was largely comprised of mostly middle-aged women with a spattering of men here and there) parted to admit a tall, blond-haired man with the most extravagant clothes Harry had ever seen. They bordered on gaudy, and yet somehow he just barely managed to make it work.

He greeted the crowd with what Harry recognized as practiced ease and then stopped, his face turned towards the Weasleys.

"My word," he said. "Is that Willow Potter?"

Harry stopped inspecting the shelves. He could always come back another day.

Willow looked (for only a second) like a deer trapped in headlights, but then gathered herself and walked forward. "I am Willow Potter, yes."

Lockhart beamed at the crowd. "Of course I'm right. Come here, if you would."

Willow just nodded and did as asked. She was fully in Hero Mode, Harry recognized. He felt a headache coming on.

"When young Willow came in today, she didn't know she'd be walking out with a full set of my written works, free of charge."

The crowd cheered. Harry could have sworn he heard swooning.

"Surprised your sister doesn't look particularly charmed," Tracey whispered.

"We _just_ turned twelve, Tracey darling," Harry drawled. "We don't have the capacity for being charmed."

"Keep telling yourself that, Harry."

He smirked but didn't answer. Lockhart was doing theatrics again.

"And in light of this fortunate turn of events," Lockhart began, "I think it's prudent to announce something I've been keeping under wraps all summer."

He paused for dramatic effect. The guy knew how to talk to a crowd, Harry would give him that. He wondered if Lockhart had been a Slytherin during his time at Hogwarts.

"This year, I will be taking over as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

He heard Blaise and Tracey groan, masked by the flash of a camera as the photographer on site took Lockhart's picture with Willow.

Harry just hummed at the thought. He had no idea how good Lockhart was at DADA, but maybe he could learn speechcraft from the man if he played his cards right. Harry wasn't bad at it, but it might be good to learn from someone who seemed to talk and write for a living.

"I guess your father _will_ be hearing about it," Harry quipped.

Tracey punched him in the arm harder than a bludger and Harry made a note not to push her before hitting himself with a whispered _Episkey._

They finished getting and paying for the requisite books (and naturally, several others) when Draco Malfoy strolled in, the severe-looking man gliding in behind him.

Willow's crew immediately looked hostile, but Harry shot Draco a warning look alongside a thin smile. Surprisingly, that only seemed to outrage the Malfoy Heir all the more. Maybe Harry needed to have another heart-to-heart with him.

"Now, now, my son," the man drawled. "That's no face for a Malfoy to wear."

"Yes, father," Draco answered, quickly schooling his features.

"Lucius," Arthur said through gritted teeth.

"Arthur!" The man smiled like poisoned honey. He glanced at the extensive number of schoolbooks everyone was holding. "You're not putting yourself in a hole for this, are you? If you need assistance, I'd be happy to help an old friend."

"We manage just fine," Arthur answered.

"Even after the fines from the Flying Car mishap? Now, now, Arthur. No need to be shy. We have plenty to spare."

Harry studied the conversation with interest. It reminded him a little bit of his interactions with Ronald, although unlike Ronald, Mister Weasley had been nothing but pleasant to him. He contemplated setting a Snakebird on Lucius Malfoy (non-enlarged, he didn't want to go to Azkaban), but decided against it. He didn't like Mister Weasley _that_ much.

Harry's face stayed impassive as Mister Weasley lunged at Lucius and the two got into a fistfight. He was barely controlling the urge to roll his eyes. Full-grown wizards engaging in physical violence like children.

_Like Dudley's Gang,_ he thought darkly.

The wand slid out of its holster.

_Harry!_ Nyx reprimanded him.

He blinked. The wand went back in. The fight ended faster than it started.

"Here, girl, take your book," Lucius said, tossing a tome into Ginny's cauldron. "It's the best your father can give you."

"Tracey?" Harry spoke.

"Yes?"

"Lucius Malfoy's not an idiot, right? He's not like Draco?"

"Not that I know of. The man's very well connected," Tracey said.

Translation: Her dad had to be careful what he wrote about Lucius.

Harry nodded. He'd thought so, too. "Wonder what the plot is, then."

"Well, it's not making the Weasleys look bad by getting in a fight with them," Blaise said. "That would hurt the Malfoys far more than them."

"My thoughts exactly."

They finished up their shopping by stocking up on Potions Ingredients at the apothecary. Harry didn't bother asking Willow if she was alright, knowing she'd never answer honestly with a crowd nearby. He'd write her about it later.

As the Weasleys headed back into the Leaky Cauldron, Harry pretended to have forgotten something on his list. No surprise, Tracey and Blaise lingered behind to ask him what was really going on. He almost felt sad about disappointing them.

"Sorry, this one's a solo project," Harry said. "I need to go somewhere private."

"Are you hearing yourself?" Tracey asked, feigning outrage. "That's no way to talk to a lady."

Harry laughed and waved his friends goodbye before heading off to Carriage for the final time that summer.

* * *

"Ah, there you are," Daphne said as Harry entered the workshop. She was well-dressed as always.

Harry sneered. "I missed you too, Daph."

"Don't give me that. I was free yesterday but you picked the Weasleys."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I picked up some interesting tidbits from today. Interested?"

Daphne considered. "If it's good, I might forgive you."

He told her about Lockhart being the new defense professor and also how Lucius Malfoy had gone out of his way to antagonize Mister Weasley.

"How odd indeed," Daphne said.

"No idea what he's up to?"

"Not a clue," she answered. "Anyway, John - he finally switched back - finished up your requests. Final fee is eight hundred Galleons and then you can select the command phrase for connecting to the trunk remotely."

Harry nodded. She'd started walking while talking and they were in John's corner before long. John looked almost exactly like Johanna, just with shorter hair and a squarer jaw.

"Harry," he said. His voice had changed to match his new identity.

"John. Good to meet you," Harry quipped.

John grinned at him, then patted Harry's custom trunk. It had been painted with a black finish that made it look sleek, just like the standard Carriage models.

"It's ready for you," John said. "After payment you can give it a name."

"A name?" Daphne asked.

"Command phrase," John explained. "If you use single word, it's practically the trunk's name."

Harry nodded. That's what he'd been about to do anyway. He pulled out eight hundred twenty galleons and put it on the table. "Extra twenty for putting up with my shit."

John snorted. "Your generosity is appreciated."

Daphne sniffed. "Do _I_ get anything for putting up with your shit?"

"A headache," Harry quipped.

"Not a flattering thing to call yourself, but whatever floats your boat, Harry."

John cleared his throat and brought Harry's attention back to the box. A ritual was performed where Harry repeated (and mentally noted) every syllable John said.

_Prydwen,_ Harry thought. It was the name of King Arthur's legendary shield. Excalibur didn't seem like a good fit for a trunk, even if he _was_ weaponizing it.

He felt the trunk respond, waiting for his instructions.

_Fly._

The trunk rose into the air, not nearly as fast as a broomstick, but looking far more elegant than it had when they'd first started.

Harry let himself grin. What twelve year old wouldn't be happy to have their own functioning magical robot?


	7. The House Elf Strikes Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been reading through comments like always, and I just wanted to say:
> 
> 1.) Thank you to everyone who's reading this fic and I'm glad you're all enjoying it.  
> 2.) Are you all alright? There are like a hundred disasters going on in 2020, and I sincerely hope you're all okay.

Harry waited patiently in the Ford Anglia with Susan and Willow while the Weasleys sorted themselves out. They'd gone in and out of the Burrow so many times that Harry had stopped counting. It seemed whenever one Weasley remembered they'd forgotten something, it triggered another in an endless chain. It had started with Fred and George going back in to return the bats he'd given them, saying they didn't need them since Hogwarts provided bats.

He should have refused. Maybe that would've stopped the endless spiral of remembering to get things from the inside before it ever started.

"How?" Harry asked, hiding none of the exasperation in his voice.

"There's so many of them," Willow said. "It's no wonder they're having so much trouble."

Harry shot her a look. "I've watched each one of them go back in at least once. It's not just a problem of numbers."

Willow had nothing to say to that. Harry shook his head and opened up _Intermediate Transmutations_ by _Edward and Alphonse Elric,_ hoping to find some means of extending the lifespan of Transfigurations.

They arrived at King's Cross Station with barely any time to spare. Harry had never taken this route to Platform Nine and Three Quarters before, so when the Weasleys had started charging straight into a pillar and disappearing on the other side, he had to blink to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

"I feel like taking the Floo would've made much more sense," Harry commented to Willow, Susan, and Ginny. They and Ronald were the last ones left. The other Weasleys, parents included, had already gone inside.

"Got to experience it at least once," Willow answered, though Harry noticed she didn't argue the point. "See you on the other side."

She pushed her trolley slowly forward. Evidently, the idea of crashing into the barrier at full speed was not factual.

Her trolly bumped into solid brick. Harry blinked.

"What the-" Willow began, pulling away from the pillar.

"See? This is why you gotta run forward!" Ronald declared, before smashing his trolley into the pillar, sending his things flying everywhere. 

A number of people looked at the boy who looked like he'd gone insane.

 _Idiot,_ Harry thought.

_Should I-_

_Better not, Nyx. This is still the muggle side of London._

"Sorry, he lost control of the cart!" Willow said, doing crowd control.

Bless his sister sometimes.

Harry strode over to the pillar, hand touching where he'd seen the others disappear through. It was solid, alright.

He turned to the others. "What are the odds of the barrier failing at this time of day, at this time of year, exactly when Willow and I need to pass?"

"Never heard of it happening before," Susan said. "Aunt Amelia would've mentioned something, I think."

"Right," Harry said. "Probable sabotage."

"Sabotage?" Willow questioned. "Who would try to stop us from-"

Harry smirked as he practically saw the word 'Dobby' form in her brain. "It's a good attempt, no? But we have options."

"The car!" Ronald said. "We can take the car to Hogwarts. It'll be brilliant!"

Harry glared at him. "None of us have a license, you dunce."

"Neither did Fred and George, but they managed to get you out, didn't they?"

"Don't be daft. It's daytime. You'll be seen."

Harry rolled his eyes. Flying in a car in broad daylight. Who would be stupid enough to-

* * *

_Willow_

"You're sure you know how to drive this thing?" she asked Ron while he fiddled with the driver's controls.

"Yeah, of course I do," Ron said. It didn't sound very convincing.

She frowned at him. He hadn't gone with them to rescue Harry, citing that it was probably a 'Death Eater trap' set by Theodore Nott. Ron hadn't apologized either after he'd been proven wrong. Admittedly, when she'd mentioned that to Harry, he'd nodded and said 'Yeah, that's actually a pretty good idea for a trap,' but still.

Ron was a good guy at heart, though she was starting to see why Harry disliked him so much.

"Will, are we sure about this?" Susan asked from the backseat. She looked horrified.

Willow peered out the window where Harry (and for some reason, Ginny) were watching them to see whether Ron would get the car running before or after she decided to bail out.

She heaved a sigh.

* * *

_Harry_

He shook his head as the Ford Anglia ascended to the sky. Ronald really _was_ an idiot.

"Are you sure you two are related?" he asked.

"Unfortunately," Ginny answered.

"Give him a break, Harry," Willow said, though even she sounded tired.

Harry snorted. "Glad you came around."

"It felt more stupid than heroic," Willow admitted. "What was your plan?"

"Could take the Knight-Bus to Diagon Alley and Floo from there."

"No!" Susan yelled, startling everyone. "Er, sorry, I mean, I'm not very comfortable riding that thing."

Harry raised an eyebrow, directing his glance towards Willow.

"It's a rough ride," Willow said. Harry had a feeling that was an understatement. "Amelia hates it, too."

He nodded. "Muggle transport it is, then, but with the Hogwarts Express taking most of the day, we'd be stuck in Hogsmeade twiddling our thumbs."

"What'd you have in mind?" Ginny asked.

"Lunch and a movie?" Harry offered.

Ginny brightened at the proposition. "Oh, I've heard of those from my dad. They're like portraits that tell a story, right?"

"Eh, close enough," Harry answered. "You three up for it? We can take a taxi to a muggle restaurant, then find a cinema and see what's showing. We'd probably still have three hours to spare after."

"I'll write Amelia," Willow said.

"Oh, right, I should tell mum," Ginny added.

They took a taxi (the driver had given them odd looks over having so much luggage), and ate lunch at a newly-opened Asian cuisine restaurant called Wagamama. Harry treated the others, both because he was the only one who brought his own Money Bag (apparently Willow and Sue were given allowances by Amelia), and because he smelled an opportunity for expanding his social circle.

They invited confused looks from the staff, being so young, but Harry had shown them the cash up front to prove he could afford it, and they let them in. He ordered a delightful plate of fried chicken sauteed in curry sauce with a bottomless (not literally, of course, it was a Muggle restaurant) glass of iced tea to help him deal with the spiciness. Ginny had no idea what half of the things on the menu were, and followed his lead.

Willow ordered a bowl of Chashu Ramen for herself, while Susan went for the Tonkotsu variant. Harry had no idea what the difference was, given that they both seemed to be pork, but then he was no connoiseur. 

They walked a short distance to a cinema to see Disney's new animated movie, Aladdin. In truth, that had been more for him than them, since he'd never had a chance to watch a movie in Muggle Britain before.

They walked out of the cinema humming 'Prince Ali' and 'Friend Like Me.' Harry made a mental note to see if his friends felt like going to Disneyland one summer. Theo would probably be up for it just out of curiosity.

They took another taxi to the Leaky Cauldron, and seeing they still had almost four hours before the Hogwarts Express reached Hogsmeade Station, stopped by in Diagon Alley for some ice cream.

Harry helped himself to two scoops of chocolate while the others picked out theirs.

"Jafar would be nuts as a dark wizard," Willow said.

"He was pretty devious, yeah," Harry added.

"No, I mean, he was basically doing wandless magic that whole time."

"Don't forget the snake staff," Ginny chimed in. "That was basically a silent Imperius Curse."

"Oh, yeah. Imagine that. It'd be like the Ministry was being puppeteered by a dark lord the whole time," Willow said. "Scary thought."

"The snake form, too," Ginny said. "Bloody hell, that was a crazy Transfiguration."

"He'd actually be more of an Animagus," Harry retorted. "Other kinds of Transfiguration make you as dumb as the animal you turn into."

"Well, he was pretty dumb after he turned into a snake," Willow reminded him.

Harry had to concede that. That had pretty much been the turning point of the whole thing. It was like Jafar's brains had leaked out of his ears.

They finished their ice cream and headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, paid Tom three Sickles each for the Floo Powder, and then Floo'd over to Hogsmeade Station. He'd guessed correctly that not even Dobby could rig a Ministry-protected Floo Connection to stop him and Willow from coming back to school.

They had a good hour or so still before the train arrived, but Harry said he had something to ask Professor McGonagall and went ahead of them.

He navigated the corridors he'd gotten familiar with over the past year, and knocked on Professor Snape's office. The door swung in to admit him.

"Mister Potter," the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin drawled, looking the same as always. "Could you not wait until the term officially started before pestering me?"

"Apologies, sir, but I wished to report student misdemeanor."

"Again, it is not yet the start of term, so this had better be important or-"

"Ronald Weasley took a flying car to school," Harry said.

"You have my attention."

"The barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters wouldn't admit us," Harry explained. "I suspect sabotage from a House-Elf that's been trying to prevent my sister and I from returning to Hogwarts, but I have no proof."

Snape nodded.

"Weasley insisted on taking his father's flying car instead of listening to my plan, which was to take public transport over to the Leaky Cauldron and Floo to Hogsmeade." He didn't mention that they'd spent most of the day eating and watching Aladdin.

"Only Mister Weasley?"

"Yes, sir. I managed to convince the rest of the students present it was a bad idea."

"Excellent initiative and leadership, Mister Potter," Snape said. "You are a credit to your House."

"Thank you, sir."

"Unfortunately, I cannot dispense House Points since the term has not yet started," Snape drawled, seeming to sound more disappointed for himself than Harry.

"Only doing my duty, sir," Harry said.

Professor Snape actually grinned. "Now, run along, Mister Potter. I must prepare to welcome Mister Weasley."

Harry nodded and left, suppressing the grin from imagining Ronald's face when Snape found him. He waited for the other non-firsties to show up before rejoining them.

"Ah, there you are, Harry," Theo said casually. It was only after a year of friendship that Harry could've been sure Theo looked worried.

"I got held up by a recent acquaintance," Harry said.

Translation: It was probably the goddamn House-elf.

"Glad to see you made it in one piece," Blaise said, smirking. "Tracey was about to owl her father to see if he could start a probe into your probable disappearance."

Harry smirked back. "I'm touched."

"It would've had a decent shot at making the front page," Tracey said as she approached. 

Merlin, she could hear far away.

"Harry!" Hermione and Neville shouted in unison when they saw him. Harry almost rolled his eyes.

"Good to see you two."

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked.

"It's a long story. Tell you all over Study Group tomorrow?"

"It's Monday tomorrow," Neville reminded him. Their group usually met Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.

"Well, if you dont' have plans we can meet anyway. I'll check with the rest."

They scattered shortly after and took their seats along their respective House Tables. Harry tried not to look nervous. They were in second year now, which meant he was free game for the rest of Slytherin. He thought he'd done enough last year to make himself respectable, but only time would tell.

Rather than keep the usual arrangement where all the first years gathered on one end of the Table, Harry's Slytherin friends occupied different parts of the section closest to the stage. He'd discussed this with Tracey, Theo, Blaise, and even Daphne over the summer via owl. If there were any good candidates among the new crop, he wanted to get them in their circle, which entailed chatting them up and being good upperclassmen so they'd feel endebted.

The Sorting Hat performed the usual song and (metaphorical, though Harry would pay to see it done for real) dance, and then people got Sorted. Harry largely ignored everyone who went into the other Houses, since he already had his network and didn't think he could personally spend time this year dealing with new, younger recruits. His friends could deal with that.

That notion changed when the Sorting reached the end of the list.

"Weasley, Ginevra!" the Hat called.

The Hat stalled on Ginny's head for two solid minutes before loudly proclaiming, "Slytherin!"

There was stunned silence in the Great Hall as the Hat came off of Ginny's head. Her eyes were wide as if there'd been some kind of mistake.

This was bad. The reception was even worse than the time he'd gotten put in Slytherin: The Gryffindors were mad she'd gone into Slytherin and the Slytherins didn't want a Weasley in their house.

Harry made a snap decision and started applauding. It would look bad on him if no one else joined in, but it wasn't right to leave Ginny to fend for herself like that.

His friends joined in and Harry's mouth split into a grin full of mischief, as if he had some malicious scheme in store for the 'helpless' youngest Weasley. That got the other Slytherins clapping, too, and soon the silent moment may as well have never existed.

Harry subtly freed up a spot next to him on the bench. Ginny saw what he was doing and took it with a nod of thanks.

"Here," Harry said, sliding her the copy of _Traditions of Wizarding Britain_ he'd read the previous year and lent to Hermione under the table.

"What is-"

"It might save your life," he said simply. 

She nodded and took it. Thankfully, the announcement of the new DADA Professor managed to distract the masses from the first Slytherin Weasley.

The two of them would need to have a talk about this later. So much for having his priorities for the year sorted out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) I have never been to a Wagamama. I just know it opened in England during the 90s, and on the day I wrote this I felt like eating Japanese food. No, I didn't actually get to, because quarantine.  
> 2.) Timing of Aladdin showing is actually slightly off from the real world, but I thought it was an acceptable break from reality.  
> 3.) No, I haven't decided if the gang will actually go to Disneyland next summer yet.


	8. Lock to the Hart

They had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs on the first morning back. Harry took a table with Justin, Blaise, and Theo. Professor Sprout drilled them on the usefulness of Mandrakes and the dangers involved in handling them: The screams of young Mandrakes could render people unconscious while those of mature ones could cause death.

Harry made a mental note to check where he could obtain a Mandrake to put inside the Prydwen. An area-of-effect sonic weapon might come in handy.

In Transfiguration, they transformed mice into goblets. Harry got his on the first attempt, with his friends not far behind. All his practice with Conjuration had improved his general Transfiguration as well, it seemed.

After class, he headed over to McGonagall's desk. Theo, Blaise, Daphne and Tracey noticeably lagged behind so they could overhear him and McGonagall talking.

"Pardon me, Professor," Harry began.

"Yes, Mister Potter?" She smiled at him thinly. "I don't believe this is about the lesson since you performed the Transfiguration admirably."

He smiled. "Thank you, Professor, and actually, this is related. I had a question about making Transfigurations last longer. We transformed the mice into goblets but they could turn back, could they not?"

"That is correct, Mister Potter," McGonagall answered. "As you already seem to know, anything transformed or created by Transfiguration cannot last."

"Right, but say I wanted to extend the duration? I know the Preservation charms in some trunks extend the effect ten-fold, but what if I don't have one?"

She eyed him warily. "I hope you're not planning to perform any pranks involving a Transfigured goblet, Mister Potter."

Harry looked affronted, though it was largely an act. He was, after all, planning on worse. "Of course not, Professor. I would never. Transfiguration is an incredibly complex school and messing around could endanger both me and my fellow students."

Her gaze persisted a few more moments before she wavered. "You can extend the duration by layering another compatible Transfiguration on top of it."

Harry made a thoughtful humming sound. "You mean Transfiguring it into something else?"

"While keeping the essence of the object, yes," McGonagall explained. "Take a Transfigured goblet: Even with a Preservation Charm it would last perhaps a day before shifting back. Now, if you were to turn the goblet into something else that retained the shape, the new spell's duration would have to expire first."

"So, what? Do I turn the goblet into a statue of a goblet or something?"

"That is precisely correct, Mister Potter. Have you been reading ahead?"

"Perhaps a little," he admitted.

"The Hardening Charm _Duro_ will turn an object into stone while retaining its shape and essence," McGonagall said. "In that case, the object would have to turn back from stone first before the original Transfiguration began to unravel. It would roughly double the longevity, but again, no Transfiguration lasts forever."

"Is the Hardening Charm affected separately by the Preservation Charm?" Harry asked, realizing what she'd just said.

"I would not know for sure, Mister Potter, but the logic is sound. A Preservation charm would extend the duration of the Hardening Charm ten-fold, and then only after that would the original spell slowly unravel."

"And then I just cast _Finite Incantatem_ visualizing only the Hardening Charm if I ever need the object back for real," Harry said, mostly to himself.

McGonagall gave him a wide-eyed look. "Mister Potter, why do you know you can selectively end spells by visualizing your intent? Filius is supposed to teach you that later this year."

"Er, that's easy, Professor. I help out in the Hospital Wing and _Episkey_ works on a similar principle."

"You're as brilliant as your mother, Mister Potter," McGonagall said kindly. "Please pass some of it along to your sister."

Harry smirked. "I'll see what I can do, Professor. Thank you. You're brilliant."

* * *

Harry shot Ronald a grin as he took his seat in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The red-haired Gryffindor fumed, and not just because he thought Harry had somehow corrupted his little sister into becoming a Slytherin.

Molly had sent him a Howler during breakfast for taking the car like an idiot and managing to lose it by crashing into a sentient tree called the Whomping Willow.

Ginny had gotten a Howler, too, presumably because she'd gotten Sorted into Slytherin, but Harry had sent an _Immobulus_ its way and helped her take it outside, which won himself brownie points both with Ginny and Slytherin for displaying Solidarity.

Ronald's embarrassment brightened Harry's day considerably, since he knew Double Defense under Lockhart was probably going to be stupid. He'd browsed through the required textbooks, noted about half the material sounded like bollocks, and then picked Willow's brain after breakfast to confirm Lockhart didn't know very much about magical creatures at all.

It didn't help people's first impression when his classroom was filled with portraits of himself.

Harry didn't particularly care, of course. He'd already stopped paying attention in History of Magic in favor of doing self-study, and it wasn't like he wasn't reading ahead in everything else. He just hoped his hunch about Lockhart being able to teach him how to persuade and regale people was on the money.

"Good morning, class," Lockhart said as he strode into the room, all smiles. He took his spot in front, sitting on his desk. "I know we've been briefly introduced during last night's feast, but in case you missed it: Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honourary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

Harry suspected he didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee at all, assuming there even had been a Bandon Banshee in the first place. He noticed many of the girls, particularly the Gryffindors (even Hermione), seemed to be giggling. Willow mercifully wasn't. What little respect she had for Lockhart had likely shattered when Harry probed her about his books.

Merlin's beard. He hoped Lockhart didn't get sacked for inappropriate interactions with students before he managed to teach Harry anything.

"Today, we'll be having a little pop quiz," Lockhart announced, to the groans of almost everyone. "Not to worry. It's just a little gauge of how much you've read your textbooks."

After the sheets were passed out, Harry heard Theo mutter, "You can't be serious."

Harry resisted the urge to snicker. The test wasn't about magical creatures at all, but Lockhart himself. Things like what his favorite color was and when was his birthday. It annoyed Harry somewhat that he knew a lot of the answers. He'd leafed through Lockhart's autobiography ' _Magical Me_ ' since he thought it might help him get in the professor's good graces.

By the end of the session, he was confident he'd gotten most of them right, though he wasn't sure that was something to be proud of. He contemplated approaching Lockhart already, but figured it would be better if Lockhart saw how Harry fared on his pop quiz first.

* * *

The study group met for the first time that afternoon in their usual spot on the second floor. Even though Theo, Blaise, Daphne and Tracey were already aware of the Lakescape Room (which Harry hadn't had the chance to visit yet), the rest of their friends were not. Pansy in particular, since she still had ties to House Malfoy.

"And then my gran found this really creepy statue of a fish-man," Neville said. "She keeps it in the bloody living room."

"I didn't know you had a thing against Mer-people," Theo said playfully.

Neville looked mortified. "Er, no, I dont'! I don't mean mer-people. This was an actual fish-man. Had the fishy bits but walked upright. Creeps the hell outta me."

"So, what was your summer like, Harry?" Pansy asked.

"Rather dull, I'm afraid," Harry said. "Never even got to hex Ronald."

"Seemed to have a spot of excitement towards the end, though," Pansy said.

He knew she was fishing for why he hadn't taken the Hogwarts Express with the rest of them, but that didn't mean he had to play along.

"I suppose," he drawled. "I can't believe I got to meet Gilderoy Lockhart in person."

Collective snickers from all the Slytherins as well as Lisa. Hermione, Neville, and Justin (to Harry's surpise) looked a bit uncomfortable.

"So, did you have anything to do with the Weasley girl getting Sorted into Slytherin?" Pansy probed.

"Pansy, dear, that would imply I have some sort of hold over a magical device created by the founders of Hogwarts," Harry drawled. "I'm only twelve. At least let me hit my teens before I start taking over the school."

He expected them all to laugh, but only the Gryffindors did. Bloody hell. Did they actually expect him to-

"You can start by single-handedly winning the House Cup like your sister did," Daphne said with a smirk. She'd decided to wear the brooch today to subtly remind everyone she was in his camp at the moment. "Baby steps, Harry."

He smirked back. "I suppose I could always start with the Quidditch Cup."

That time they did laugh, since he hadn't told anyone he'd been practicing with Fred and George over the summer.

"So, how's everyone's first day going?" Harry asked.

"How do you think?" Neville said, burying his face in his herbology book.

He shot Hermione a glance.

"He, er, he needed some help with Transfiguration," she said gently.

"It's a bloody disaster is what it was!" Neville yelled, muffled somewhat by the book. Harry was glad he'd placed a _Quietus_ before they gathered. He didn't want Filch coming in to shoo them off.

"His Goblet still had fur," Hermione said. "And limbs. It jumped off his desk and onto Lavender's robes."

"Would've been worse if Willow didn't think to immobilize it so fast," Neville moaned.

"Merlin's beard, that sounds-" Harry had been about to say something else, but managed to keep himself in check. "Awful. Nev, how'd your wand-choosing go? There's got to be something off."

Because Harry would've intentionally had to screw that transfiguration up to get the result Neville had.

"It didn't," Neville said.

"What?" Tracey asked.

"I didn't get a new wand," Neville explained. "This was my dad's before-" he trailed off. 

Harry nodded in thanks. Neville's parents had been tortured by Death Eaters until they lost their minds. It wasn't good to bring it up in their social circle.

"Get yourself a new wand," Justin said. "You're only hurting yourself."

Again, Harry nodded appreciatively. If anyone from Slytherin had been the one to say it, Neville might've taken it the wrong way.

"But- but Gran says I should use it," Neville answered. "To remember what my dad stood for."

"But Neville," Hermione chimed in. "I don't think your parents would've wanted you to suffer because of them. Sorry if that sounds wrong."

There was silence before Neville said, "I'll think about it."

Harry offered him a kind smile. It was as much as they could hope to get for now. Still, it explained a lot. He'd had trouble with magic at first, too, but to screw up the way Neville did would've taken a conscious effor-

He blinked. Do it on purpose. Huh. Now, there was an idea.

 _Whatever you're thinking,_ Nyx communicated. _I hate it already._

"Wait, before we go," Theo said at the end of their meeting. "You can't be forgetting about these."

He unshrunk his trunk, brought out a brightly-wrapped box and laid it on the table. "It's late, but Happy Birthday, Harry."

"Can't believe you forgot when we didn't," Blaise added, placing his own green box on the table.

Then Tracey, then Daphne, and the rest. Hermione and Neville, who didn't have shrinking trunks or mokeskin pouches, had Blaise hold onto theirs for safekeeping.

It took all of Harry's willpower not to cry, instead letting a cheshire grin spread across his face. "Thank you," was all he managed to say. He considered opening them there, remembered most of his friends were _Slytherins,_ and decided to open them later in the privacy of the Lakescape room.

* * *

After the group went their separate ways, Harry made his way to the Lakescape room for a bit of spell practice. The room was exactly as he'd left it, minus a bit of extra dust that he cleared away easily enough.

First order of business, of course, were his presents. His earlier caution, it seemed, had been unwarranted. His friends had been clever (or innocent) enough not to send him anything that might be incriminating if the Dursleys saw them.

But he wasn't disappointed no one had decided to slip him some artifact of doom or tome of eldritch lore from their family library. Harry had never gotten birthday presents before, except for the time with Hagrid. Not even Willow and Amelia had gotten him anything, since they hadn't known he was alive, so his friends could've gotten him a Hallmark Birthday card and still gotten the same reaction.

Theo's gift was a Chronicle of King Arthur from the magical world's point of view, though a quick scan of the contents informed Harry there was no lost knowledge or spellwork within - only history, which was fascinating in its own way since Merlin was one of the few figures in magical society whose name survived onto the muggle side.

Blaise had gotten him more hair product, which was always appreciated.

Daphne's gift was a stack of magical fashion magazines with tips for coordinating outfits and whatnot. Despite the subtle jab at his fashion sense, Harry appreciated it. Appearances could be a surprising source of power.

From Tracey and Pansy, he'd gotten multiple boxes of chocolate frogs and other assorted sweets.

Hermione had (curiously) gotten him a beginner's chemistry set, though he had zero knowledge of chemistry and never expressed an interest in- 

Oh, right. She must've thought it was like Potions. Strange thought, but he could see it.

Neville's gift was even more curious - a book on Indian mythology. He supposed it was something Neville managed to buy while him and his gran were out seeing the world.

There was one more package in the pile, and it made Harry's stomach turn when he saw who it was from: Willow had gotten him a toy dragon. If his sister had been a Slytherin, he would've spent the rest of the day contemplating the meaning of such a gift, but given that Willow was Willow, he assumed the well-made, painted model was simply that: a gift small enough to fit in his palm. She must've asked Hermione or Neville to give it to him. He hadn't noticed since he was trying not to cry and all.

He felt guilty about forgetting to get her anything (not that he'd been in a position to), and resolved to do something about it later. But now, it was time to work.

" _Serpensortia!_ "

A brown-patterned snake coiled on the floor in front of him. Harry had chosen a Boa Constrictor, out of fondness of the one he'd sicced on Dudley during his old life.

" _Hail, ssscaled one,_ " Harry spoke. He hadn't spoken to a snake since before he knew he was a wizard.

" _Greetingsss, ssspeaker,_ " the snake hissed back. " _What can thisss one do for you?_ "

" _Sssmall experiment,_ " Harry answered. " _Will you consssent to being transssfigured?_ "

" _Thisss one is but a conssstruct created by the ssspeaker's power,_ " it answered. " _Thisss one isss at your disssposal._ "

Harry knew as much, but it still made him feel better to ask.

 _You can talk to snakes?_ Nyx asked. _Since when?_

 _Since before I had a wand,_ Harry answered. _From your tone, I guess it's not common?_

_Again, I'm not a witch and you're better off asking someone else to be sure, but yes._

Interesting. Another thing to add to his research, but he had a different project to work on at the moment. He grasped his wand, traced a sideways figure eight with it and said, " _Avifors!_ "

There was a snapping sound as a pair of great, black wings (Harry had envisioned a Condor's) grew out of the Boa Constrictor's body.

" _Can you move them?_ " Harry asked.

The snake stood stock still for a moment before the great wings flapped, lifting it almost a foot off the floor before it dropped back down.

" _Magnificent,_ " Harry hissed.

He spent another five minutes giving the Constrictor a set of two legs that ended in talons despite it pointing out that giving it legs limited its ability to actually constrict prey. Harry was only experimenting with the limits of partial Transfiguration, after all. The proof-of-concept didn't have to be combat-ready.

 _Well, it's frightening,_ Nyx told him. _If that's what you were going for._

 _It was, yes,_ Harry said. _You should know how effective intimidation is, even if it is basically a scarecrow._

_Won't people know it's just a partially transfigured snake?_

_Maybe if they think about it for more than a few seconds,_ Harry answered. _Might help if I call it something that sounds mystical._

_Don't you mean magical?_

_No. I used to read a lot of old horror stories,_ Harry communicated. _One of the greatest fears of humanity is the unknown. I have a feeling if it works on muggles, it'll work on wizards._

_Oooh. Trickery. I like it but I'm afraid I don't know enough about humans to help._

_That's alright,_ Harry answered. _I just need to borrow from either old fiction or ancient myth. I'm sure I'll figure something out._

Harry cast _Reducio_ and then _Duro_ on the transfigured snake, turning it into a stone miniature before he tucked it into his pocket. He'd given it instructions beforehand to inform him when it turned back from stone. He needed to test the longevity of the spell outside the Preservation Charm.

 _Basmu,_ Harry thought.

 _I did not sneeze,_ Nyx said. _I cannot sneeze._

_No, no. I mean I'll call the snake 'Basmu.' It's a snake creature with wings from Mesopotamian myth._

Nyx seemed to consider. _I like it. Will the other wizards and witches understand that?_

_No, but that's kind of the point. Not knowing is scarier than knowing._

Harry was making his way to dinner when he spotted Theo and Blaise in his usual shadowy spot outside the Great Hall. Huh. He walked over to them and gently asked Nyx to release the Glamour he pretty much always kept on when traveling by himself. No one was gonna catch him unawares unless they had occlumency training and the presence of mind to check the whole time they walked.

"What happened to you?" he asked with some concern.

They nearly jumped. Theo's left cheek was swollen, and he was cradling his left arm with his right. He looked just about ready to murder someone. Blaise's nose had grown to twice its size and he looked equally menacing.

"Got jumped by some upper year Gryffindors," Theo said. "Blaise and I were distracted."

" _Episkey,_ " Harry incanted, and the swelling on Theo's face subsided somewhat. He looked at the arm Theo was cradling and frowned. "I can't mend bones yet."

Theo nodded. "Thanks."

They spent a solid minute casting _Finite Incantatem_ on Blaise's noses before it went back to normal.

"Any idea who they were?" Harry asked.

"No, but don't worry about it," Theo answered. Normally that would've meant someone was willing to forgive, but when Theo said it, it meant 'Stay out of it because I wanna get even.'

Harry nodded.

"You could always avenge me instead," Blaise quipped.

"Then we'll need names," Harry said. "We've got friends in their tower."

Theo looked like he was about to argue, but stopped at the reminder of having friends in Gryffindor tower.

"You think we stopped to ask?" Blaise asked.

"Right. Time to do some digging, then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this taking so long. I realized something, I think thanks to a previous comment from a reader, that I had forgotten to have the gang actually give Harry presents.
> 
> I had to come up with a way to have Harry receive gifts that would not impact the plot because it would be weird if Theo gave Harry a tome on the dark arts and Harry proceeded to use zero of them even in life or death situations. Pitfalls of being an amateur author. Next chapter won't take nearly as long. Might have it up by tomorrow. We'll see.
> 
> Unrelated, but I think the extended sssss in Parseltongue is a bit much. Thing is, I've already finished writing the book like this, but starting Year 3 I might just italicize and you guys can just make them hissssss in your heads.


	9. Learning Maneuvers

Angus Matlock, Paul Mawdesley, Kieran Muirhead, Roderick Murphy, and Joe McGee. Those had been the names of the five third-year Gryffindors who'd jumped Theo and Blaise on their way out of the dungeons. Conveniently, all five shared a dorm room, and it had been no trouble for Fred and George to sprinkle their beds with Bulbadox Powder in exchange for Harry promising to look after Ginny in Slytherin (which he was already doing anyway but they didn't need to know that).

Hadn't taken long, either. All Harry had to do was ask Neville if any Gryffindors were bragging about nailing a couple of Death Eater kids in the Common Room.

Harry had more interesting things on his mind, like finally doing Quidditch tryouts. He'd gotten some standing with the Slytherin Quidditch Team because of the info he contributed the previous year, but no one outside Fred, George and Ginny knew Harry was any good on a broom.

As Harry made his way to the Slytherin Team's locker room, he found familiar faces among the assembled throng.

"Potter?" Malfoy asked, looking surprised. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I could ask you the same," Harry said. "Last time I remember you being on a broom, you crashed into a wall."

Malfoy glared at him. Harry just smirked and turned to the other familiar face.

"Tracey, I didn't know you played Quidditch," he said, favoring her with a soft smile.

"You'd know a lot more if you bothered to pay attention," she said, though there wasn't any real bite behind it. "Come now. You should know I'm a perfect fit."

"For what position?" Harry asked.

"Whichever I do best in," she answered. "You?"

Harry grinned. "Beater."

"You're not going after Seeker like your sister?" Malfoy questioned.

"I'd rather not be defined by my sister, thank you very much."

"You wouldn't have stood a chance anyway," Malfoy said, looking pleased with himself. "My father says if I make the team, he'll buy Nimbus 2001's for the whole team."

Harry stared at him. "Bit direct, don't you think?"

Malfoy sneered. "When you're a Malfoy, you can afford such shows of power."

"Is that the only reason you think I don't stand a chance?" Harry asked.

"Of course not. I've been wanting to play Seeker for years. I'm bloody good at it. The brooms are just insurance."

"Well, if you're so confident, you won't mention the brooms until after you get accepted."

Malfoy glowered. "I don't take orders from you."

"Oh, it's no order. Like I said, I'm not trying for Seeker so I don't particularly care," Harry explained. "I just think it'd help your image more if you got the position on your own merits, and _then_ you gave the team brooms."

Malfoy seemed to consider. "Why would you-"

"Slytherin solidarity?" Harry offered. It was partly that, but also him being wary of whatever plot Lucius was enacting.

"I don't understand you sometimes," Malfoy said.

Malfoy noticeably didn't mention the Nimbus 2001's to Flint until after the tryouts.

* * *

"Alright, Potter," Flint said as Harry took position with one of the school's bats atop a borrowed Cleansweep. "Show us what you got."

Derrick and Bole, the incumbent Beaters, opened up the shaking crate and out came a single Bludger. It zoomed into the air before flying straight down towards Harry.

Wood met iron as the Bludger sailed back through the air. After several weeks of practice, hitting it was child's play.

He redirected it several more times before Flint called for a cease. Harry hovered back down to the ground.

"Not bad," Flint said. "You can be reserve."

"I can do better," Harry answered.

Flint looked cross. "Derrick and Bole are both stronger and more experienced than you."

"No, I mean I can do better," Harry repeated. "Hit me with a second Bludger."

"Seriously?" Flint asked. Harry met his gaze evenly. It was alright. It was just Quidditch, not something Flint would hex him over. "Fine. Your funeral, Potter."

Derrick and Bole looked at him like he was mad, but followed their captain's orders. Two Bludgers soared out of their crates and towards Harry. He sidestepped the first with little difficulty before bringing his bat up to smack the other.

It sailed through the air before coming back. 

Years of doing multiple chores at once had trained his ability to multitask, and staying aware of both Bludgers (it wasn't like they were smart enough to flank him or anything) proved no problem. Harry managed to keep any of the iron balls from hitting him, though double the targets meant double the exhaustion. It was five minutes after when Flint finally asked Harry to stop.

"Alright, Potter. You've made your point."

Harry bowed slightly before returning to the locker room, ignoring the flabbergasted looks on Bole and Derrick's faces.

Malfoy was waiting inside, looking a mite nervous. "Merlin, you look like you took a beating."

Harry grinned. "More like I gave one."

After another ten minutes, Tracey joined them, having tried out for every position except Seeker. Harry suspected she just wanted a free Nimbus 2001. He couldn't blame her, really. He did, too.

"How'd you do?" Harry asked.

"How do you think?" she replied, grinning her signature sharp grin.

Harry nodded. "Surprised you're even allowed. You've got a bit of an advantage on everyone else."

"Vampires have practically the same rights as wizards and witches," Tracey answered. "Well, these days, anyway. Unlike the merpeople or the werewolves, we've thrived under the Ministry."

Harry suspected their allure had something to do with that, but who was he to judge? He was using a Fairy Familiar to set illusory snakes on people, among other things.

They didn't wait much longer before Flint came back with a pair of disgruntled-looking Beaters.

"Potter, Davis," Flint began. "Congratulations, you're our new Beaters. Beaters work best in practiced pairs, so Bole and Derrick will take over for both of you if either of you can't play."

Harry nodded, trying not to let his giddiness show. He'd been almost sure he'd get it, but in front of the Slytherin Quidditch Team's captain was not a place he wanted to lose his cool.

"Malfoy, you're the new Seeker," Flint said. "Keepers and Chasers are as-is."

He gave them a rundown of the details of when Slytherin had the field to themselves for practice. He then handed each of them identical copies of a book called ' _I'm not Good. I'm not even Great. I'm the Best_ ' by _Jeff Moreau_ , who was apparently the best damn Flyer of _something_. Harry wasn't entirely sure what. They all even had identical additional hand-written notes on the sides of the text that made Harry suspect these were all copies of some ancient flying manual.

"You keep these a secret from the other Houses," Flint stressed. "Especially you, Potter. If I see a Gryffindor doing Slytherin Maneuvers, I'll turn you into a Bludger. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

Marcus Flint was a man possessed. Harry was convinced after only a single training session. He'd flown them ragged for five hours before finally telling them to pack it up. Even Malfoy had shut up afterwards.

Tracey gave Harry a subtle look saying she wanted to talk. He nodded, made an excuse to Malfoy about checking up on a project he had, and waited for Tracey to catch up to him.

"What's up?" he asked.

"What was that?" Tracey said. "Thought you and Malfoy were at each other's throats."

Harry scoffed. "More like I have my heel pressed against his throat. I figured if we're going to be on the Quidditch Team together, I should offer him an olive branch. Besides, he was generous enough to give us new brooms. You'll be sure to tell everyone in Slytherin, won't you?"

Tracey smirked. "How benevolent of you."

Harry smirked back. "You know me."

The unsaid message, of course, was that it didn't actually matter what the Quidditch Team thought of Malfoy. Everyone else would still think he'd bribed his way onto the team. The olive branch had been a bone.

* * *

Their next lesson with Lockhart was interesting, to say the least. 

A sheet covered the outline of a cage on top of a desk. Harry wondered what was inside. Some kind of magical snake, perhaps?

_I know that smell,_ Nyx hissed in his mind. He didn't like the tone she was using.

"Be warned," Lockhart said. "It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind."

Lockhart tapped the cage with his wand, and it started to shake violently. Soft gasps from the Gryffindor side of the room. The Slytherins remained impassive, though most of them, Harry included, gripped their wands.

"Know only that no harm will befall you whilst I am here," Lockhart said. "I must ask you not to scream: It might provoke them!"

The final line had been delivered with a flourish as Lockhart removed the sheet. Inside were a group of small, winged humanoids that stood at about Nyx's height, but where she could've passed for a tiny human, these looked a bit like little blue goblins.

Nyx hissed, not in his mind, but audibly.

"Cornish Pixies!?!" a boy on the Gryffindor side scoffed.

"Freshly caught Cornish Pixies!" Lockhart said.

The boy laughed.

"Laugh if you will, Mister Finnegan," Lockhart said. "But Pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters."

His hand moved to the cage's door. Harry's wand came out of his holster just as the door opened.

"Let's see what you make of them!" Lockhart said.

They swarmed out of the cage and towards the class, drawing shrieks from the gathered students. Harry made a note to hex Finnegan later.

" _Immobulus!_ " Harry incanted, and a wave of paralyzing energy erupted from his wand. It caught two of the Pixies, freezing them in place, but it was too little. 

"Come on, now," Lockhart said. "Round them up, round them up! They're only Pixies!"

Maybe Harry would hex him, too.

A trio of Pixies grabbed onto Neville and, to Harry's surprise, slowly lifted him through the air. Maybe giving Nyx troll strength wouldn't be such a bad idea, after all.

" _Immobulus!_ " That one had come from Willow, and kept both Neville and the Pixies in place.

"Thank you!" he cried.

_Harry!_ Nyx communicated.

Harry found her through their mental link and saw three of the Pixies chasing after her. It seemed her Glamour didn't work on them.

" _Immobulus!_ " The spell missed as the Pixies wisely got out of its way, but Harry had managed to buy Nyx time to put some distance between the Pixies and her.

" _Immobulus!_ " Another wave came from Theo, and then Blaise, and then Daphne. Two more from the Gryffindor side: Hermione and Willow. Four more Pixies were stuck in place, though there were still too many. 

Lockhart spoke an incantation, but for whatever reason, it did nothing. One of the Pixies then nicked his wand and took off towards the ceiling, where the bones of what Harry thought was supposed to be a dragon (it obviously wasn't) hung from a single rope.

The Pixie waved Lockhart's wand, spoke something unintelligible, and a spark shot out of the wand, burning through the rope and sending the skeleton crashing down.

"I'll ask the rest of you to just nip the rest of them back into their cage," Lockhart said with a smile before running out of the classroom.

"Unbelievable," Theo said.

"Less talking more casting!" Daphne told him as she aimed another _Immobulus._ It hit a single Pixie.

This was getting them nowhere. Harry gripped his wand, traced a circle with it, and shouted, " _Avis!_ "

A large, white swan appeared in the path between the two columns of desks. " _Engorgio!_ "

The swan grew to prodigious size, easily towering over even the tallest second year. Harry commanded it to crane its body backwards and flap its wings.

Powerful gusts of wind from the swan's massive wingspan buffeted the Pixies, forcing them to one side of the room and sending quills and rolls of parchment flying.

"Now!" Harry said, and a barrage of _Immobulus_ spells took the remaining Pixies out of commission.

Theo grinned at him. "That was quick thinking."

Harry smirked. " _Someone_ had to put a stop to that mess."

There were murmurs of approval from the gathered second years, even a few from the Gryffindor side after Willow had complimented him on being daft but brilliant.

It had been unpleasant, yes, but at least now he had something to hold over Lockhart. He glanced at Malfoy, who was staring at the large swan in fascination. Harry promptly casted _Finite Incantatem_ and the swan vanished.

* * *

"What in Merlin's name-" Flint started as the Slytherin Quidditch Team walked onto the pitch. There were already brooms in the air, riders sporting the red and gold colors of Gryffindor. They had a throng of supporters watching, too.

"I thought we had the pitch today," one of the Chasers, Pucey, questioned.

"We _should,_ " Flint said through gritted teeth.

One of the Gryffindors floated down, though not low enough to touch the ground. Harry recognized him as the Gryffindor Captain, Oliver Wood.

"Flint, what're you lot doing here?" Wood asked.

"It's Slytherin's turn on the pitch," Flint said flatly. "What's the Gryffindor team doing here?"

"Like hell it is," Wood shot back. "We've got the pitch for the rest of the day."

Hearing the commotion, the rest of the Gryffindor team (WIllow included) floated down. She looked surprised to see him there, which was fair since he hadn't mentioned it, but her attention was rightly focused on the feuding captains.

Harry watched impassively as the argument turned to name-calling, and then threats. He didn't particularly care if the Gryffindors kept the pitch. He could use a day off from Quidditch Practice, and he had more experiments to run with Transfiguration.

It looked like it was going somewhere until the Gryffindor observers decided (like Gryffindors typically do) to meddle. With supporters in tow, the Gryffindors outnumbered the Slytherins almost three to one, and it wasn't like all the Gryffindors were first years.

"Malfoy? Potter?" Ronald's shrill voice sounded from the crowd. "What're you doing here?"

"New Seeker and Beater," Malfoy answered, sneering at Ronald. "We're gonna cream you losers with our new-"

Harry rolled his eyes and elbowed Malfoy to shut up. The Gryffindors didn't need to know about the Nimbus 2001s.

"You even know how to fly?" Ronald asked, looking from Draco to Harry.

They exchanged a glance. Harry shrugged to show he didn't care. He'd already proven Ronald Weasley was beneath him during First Year.

"Wait," Ronald started. "Aren't those - blimey, are those Nimbus 2001s? Why do you all-"

"What's the matter, Weasley? Never seen one up close before? I guess your family _would_ put itself in a hole to be able to buy even one."

Harry wanted to kick Draco, but the rule about not letting the other Houses see them squabble kept him in check. 

"Well," Hermione spoke up. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way onto the team."

Harry rubbed his temple, feeling a headache coming on. Perhaps if he'd steered the conversation from the start-

"What do you know?" Draco sneered. "You're just a filthy Mudblood!"

A collective gasp came from the Gryffindors.

Perhaps he could've prevented something like that. Harry had to make a conscious effort not to sigh. Did he have to break Malfoy's arm every year until he learned his lesson?

He was trying to imagine a scenario where a bludger would smack the blond boy with enough force to break something without implicating Harry when Willow stepped forward, her eys blazing with fury.

"You're out of line, Malfoy," she said.

"Someone needs to teach you a lesson," Ronald spoke. He raised his wand, spoke an enchantment Harry didn't quite catch, and got blasted by his own spell.

"Ron!" Willow cried out as she knelt next to him. "Are you alright?"

"I think so, I-" Ronald never finished his sentence because he promptly vomited out a slug, showing he was not, in fact, alright.

The Gryffindors turned as one to Harry. He'd patched up quite a few of them on the days he volunteered at the Hospital Wing. He shook his head and put on an air of helplessness. "Don't look at me. I'm not good enough for something like that. Best take him to Madam Pomfrey."

In truth, massing _Finite Incantatem_ probably would have done it, but Ronald was being an idiot and Harry didn't want to lower his standing in Slytherin by helping someone who was clearly the enemy at the time.

In any case, the tension defused with the heroic sacrifice of one Ronald Weasley.

* * *

Harry knocked on the door to Gilderoy Lockhart's office.

"Who is it?" Lockhart's voice called out from inside.

Harry rolled his eyes and just opened the door. Most professors would've just wordlessly opened it with magic. "It's me, Professor."

"Oh!" Gilderoy looked up at him from his desk. "The Girl Who Lived's brother, correct? What can I do for you?"

Harry showed no outward annoyance at the slight. "It's Harry, Professor, and I was hoping to get your advice on something. May I come in?"

"Well, you _did_ do a fair job at wrangling the rest of the Pixies," Lockhart said. "I could've done better, of course. I just figured the practical experience would be good for you. Sit, my boy, sit!"

Harry closed the door behind him, taking in his surroundings. Lockhart's office was everything he thought it would be: A self-made shrine to worship Lockhart's undeserved fame and fortune.

Portraits of Lockhart winked at Harry as he walked in and took a seat across from the Professor. He did his best not to sneer. He was playing the role of an innocent young boy who wanted more self-confidence, after all.

"Now, what did you need, Harry?" Lockhart asked, beaming at him. "Looking for tips on handling dark creatures?"

_Doesn't know how to address me properly,_ Harry noted.

_He is a fool. Why do you bother?_ Nyx asked.

Harry smiled back. "Not exactly, Professor. Where do I begin? Ever since I met you in Flourish and Blotts, I couldn't help but notice you've got a powerful charisma about you."

"Well, I don't want to blow my own horn, but I am the five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award."

Not that he ever talked about that, of course.

"That's exactly it, Professor," Harry said. "I'm, well, I'm getting to that age where I've started noticing er, my female classmates." He paused for effect. "I was hoping if you could share your expertise?"

Not strictly true, of course. Tracey would've turned him into a gibbering puddle if he'd actually hit puberty, occlumency or no.

Lockhart laughed. "Oh, of course! Of course! Good that you came to me for this. I can't imagine any of the other Professors would be much help." Lockhart paused, his brows furrowing. "Can you imagine what kind of dating advice Professor Snape would give? The thought makes me shudder."

"Exactly, Professor." Harry looked down, hoping he looked bashful. "I'm not entirely sure how to strike up a conversation, let alone maintain one."

A more astute, less self-absorbed person might have noticed the inconsistency: Harry had approached Lockhart fine, after all, but Lockhart was far too busy preening to notice.

"Well, then, I can't have you telling people you came to me for help with the ladies and walk out without a clue," Lockhart said. "So, certainly. I'll teach you a few things."

Harry smiled, his green eyes gleaming in triumph.

Lockhart drilled Harry on the basics of speechcraft, which Harry absorbed with genuine gusto. He'd had a rough idea of most of this stuff already, but hearing a refined version from a master solidified the concepts in his mind.

Time was flying by when Harry heard a voice that was neither his own nor Nyx's nor Lockhart's.

" _Rip you, tear you, kill you,_ " a voice spoke. It reminded Harry of something but he couldn't place it.

"Sorry, Professor, did you hear that?" he asked.

"Hear what?"

He didn't know if Lockhart really hadn't heard it or if he was just being oblivious as usual. "I could've sworn I heard a voice."

_I don't hear anything, Harry,_ Nyx answered. That troubled him more than if she said she _had_ heard it.

Lockhart smiled kindly at him. "You must be tired, my boy. And no wonder, why it's gotten so late! Time does fly when you're having fun. Off you go!"

"But Professor-"

"If you need any more advice, my door is open," Lockhart told him.

"Thank you, Professor."

Harry left the room, glad at how things had gone. Still, he wondered what that voice had been. A mystery for another day, he supposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random info for the curious:  
> 1.) Gryffindor bully names were taken from the wiki. I think they're npcs from the video games. Not 100% sure at this point.  
> 2.) I did give the Cornish Pixies wings, yes, like in the movies. I liked that appearance better, honestly.  
> 3.) The flying book is a kinda obscure reference that not many people will get.  
> 4.) I can't wait for Dueling club.


	10. Halloween, Year Two

Harry, Theo, Blaise, Daphne and Tracey were on their way to the Great Hall when he heard it: _"Rip you, sssmash you, crusssh you."_

He stopped in his tracks.

"Did anyone else hear that?" he asked. His friends shook their heads. He'd already told them about the incident in Lockhart's office, of course.

Theo had remarked that hearing voices was unusual, even in the wizarding world. Necromancy was among the darkest arts, and few even among Lord Nott's 'associates' dabbled in it, though the Dark Lord certainly had.

_Nyx?_

_Nothing, Harry._

It wasn't some kind of telepathy. That much, he knew. He'd been waiting to hear it again to check if his Occlumency would notice anything, but it did not. That meant he actually _was_ hearing something that only he could hear. Or he was going mad.

A brief flash of Carter shoving the Key into his forehead in the middle of an alien wasteland came to mind.

No, that had been a dream. He was sure of it. However the Key was floating, it wasn't because some cosmic horror was reaching its dark tendrils into his mind. He was pretty sure. Probably. Maybe.

" _Kill the enemiesss of the Heir,_ " the voice sounded again, a bit further ahead.

"There it is again," Harry said. "Back me up? If it's too much, I have a distraction so we can run."

His friends nodded, wands coming out of their holsters.

_Nyx, scout ahead._

_Yes, Harry._

They followed Harry, who in turn was following the voice as it seemed to climb higher. Harry swore. The nearest stairway was half a minute away. They doubled their pace so they could catch up to the source before it was gone.

_Harry!_ Nyx communicated, sounding distressed.

_What is it?_

_Better if I show you._ There was pause and then an image of Filch's Cat hanging from a torch basket filled his mind.

Harry stopped in his tracks, partly because walking blind was never a good idea. He saw through Nyx's vision, seeing the floor of the hallway was slick with water from a nearby bathroom. Filch's Cat seemed to be dead. That was the other reason he'd stopped. No need for him to be anywhere near-

The vision ended, and Harry was back to his own eyes and ears. He shook himself.

"What is it?" Daphne asked.

"Filch's Cat got attacked," Harry said. "I didn't see for sure but she looked dead. Was hanging from a torch basket by her tail."

_Harry!_ Nyx called to him.

_What is it?_

_Your sister is here, and people are gathering._

He swore. At least he had an excuse for showing up with everyone else. "There's a crowd. Let's go."

The assembled students in the Hallway stood in stunned silence. Even from a distance, Harry could see the literal writing on the wall: 

'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware!'

It seemed to be written in blood. Harry caught himself before he could ask Tracey if she could identify any Blood Magic in a _hallway full of people_ right after Filch's cat had been attacked.

He spotted Willow, Hermione, Neville, Susan, and Ronald standing in the middle of the crowd, closest to the probably-dead cat. He really shouldn't have been surprised.

"Enemies of the Heir beware?" Harry heard Malfoy's voice read aloud from the other side of the hallway. "You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

The 'Chamber of Secrets.' Harry remembered it, of course. He'd encountered the term during his first year, when he'd been trying to figure out what the message from the Sorting Hat meant. He remembered stopping when more important things like Lord Voldemort's return came up. That, and he hadn't felt so sure about coming face to face with a murderous monster.

In hindsight after his experiments transforming snakes, he probably should've given that a higher priority. A legendary monster sounded like a good thing to have against a Dark Lord, assuming he could control it somehow.

His thoughts were interrupted by movement from behind. "What's going on here?" Argus Filch asked. "Go on! Make way! Make way!"

Filch stared at Willow, first, who looked at him like a deer in headlights.

"Potter? What're you-" His eyes then drifted behind Willow, to the hanging form of his beloved cat. Harry couldn't see his face, but he could imagine the agony on it. He would've felt the same if something happened to Nyx, even if he could bring her back.

"You've murdered my cat," Filch said, softly, almost unheard.

Willow started shaking her head. "No. No. No."

"I'll kill you." Filch's hand reached for Willow's collar. "I'll kill you!"

_"Petrificus Tot-"_ Harry began, but was cut off as Dumbledore arrived from the opposite side. The Professors followed in his wake. 

Why were they always late when it came to monsters being loose in the castle on Halloween? Actually, why _were_ monsters always loose in the castle on Halloween? What was next, a serial killer in a hockey mask?

"Argus!" he said. "Calm yourself. Everyone will proceed to their dormitories immediately. Except for you five."

He indicated Willow's party. Harry contemplated staying behind to learn more, but if he knew Dumbledore, the old man wouldn't actually tell her anything.

* * *

"It's a snake," Harry declared. He was inside the Lakescape Room with only his Slytherin friends, minus Pansy whom he still didn't trust due to her ties to Draco.

"How are you so sure?" Theo asked, though his tone didn't sound questioning.

Harry indicated his latest iteration of the Basmu, which perched on the table between the two couches. He'd swapped out the Boa Constrictor chassis for a Spitting Cobra, both for the actual venomous spit and its venomous bite. A Constrictor with wings and talons was awful at actually constricting things, it turned out.

"I've been talking to snakes. The brief encounter with the disembodied voice in Lockhart's Office reminded me of the feeling, but it was only after I heard it again that I felt sure: Whatever was going around whispering threatening messages on Halloween was a snake of some kind."

"You're a Parselmouth?" Tracey asked, sounding astonished.

Harry smirked. "Is that what it's called? It's not exactly something one brings up in casual conversation. 'Oh, hey, Tracey. Did you know I could talk to snakes? Okay, bye now!'"

"Harry, do you know how rare that is?" Theo asked.

"No, I don't," Harry answered. "Not exactly easy to look something up without knowing what it's called, is it?"

"The last known Parselmouth was the Dark Lord," Theo told him.

Harry didn't know how to process that information. On the one hand, he didn't care if he had something in common with Voldemort. The man needed to be vanquished, certainly, but he was powerful, and here he was finding out he had one of Voldemort's powers all along - something not even his sister had.

"What other secrets are you hiding?" Tracey asked, batting her eyelashes. He felt the pull of her red eyes and pushed back with his will.

"Tracey, dear, how many times must I tell you?" Harry drawled. "I'm too young for your wiles to work on me. _Do_ keep trying, though."

"So, what?" Blaised interrupted. "There's an invisible snake going around petrifying people?"

They'd discussed what had happened and concluded the cat had only been petrified, not actually killed. Conveniently, the Mandrakes they'd been working with in Herbology could be used to prepare a curative draught against petrification. Harry hoped Madam Pomfrey would brew it and not Snape. He wanted to be there to see it made.

"Unlikely," Theo said. "Dumbledore would've seen it."

Harry nodded. Theo's father had confirmed (and Theo had relayed it to him) that Dumbledore could somehow see through illusions and invisibility. He suspected Dumbledore already knew about the Potter Twins' Fairies, but it didn't hurt to keep a few tricks up his sleeve.

"In that case, it's getting around because this is Hogwarts," Daphne suggested.

"Most likely," Harry said. "Place is full of secret passages, though it is a little hard to imagine a snake being able to access all of them."

"Not unless it can talk, or has limbs," Theo said, eyeing the Basmu. "You can't be the first person who thought of partially Transfiguring a snake to make something… else."

Harry grinned. "Well, if my only precursor is Salazar Slytherin, I still think my idea's rather inspired. Don't you?"

"Wait," Tracey said. "You're a _Parselmouth._ Merlin, Harry, does that mean you're the Heir of Slytherin?"

The others looked at him with undisguised interest. What was the point, after all? They were in a private chamber and Harry knew they'd want to know, anyway.

"Tracey, you wound me," Harry drawled. "Do you really think I would find Salazar's Legacy-"

Tracey nodded.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Let me finish. Do you really think I would find Salazar's Legacy, and _then_ the first thing I do is get it to petrify a cat?"

"He's right, Trace," Blaise said. "It'd be Weasley and Malfoy in the Hospital Wing if it were Harry."

"I'd have to research Salazar Slytherin's family tree to be sure, but I sincerely doubt he had anything to do with the Potters," Harry added. "We've all been Gryffindors until me as far as anyone can recall."

He didn't contest Blaise's assumption, but it wasn't, in fact, correct. If Slytherin _did_ have an ancient snake monster, the first thing Harry would've done was ask it in Parseltongue if it knew any of the founder's secrets.

Snakes were not sentient, as far as he knew, but the moment he conversed with one in Parseltongue (even the constructed Basmu) they began to exhibit a form of semi-intelligence. It wasn't far-fetched to think Salazar's Monster knew some of his lost lore. Weren't people always going on about how no one could do the things the Founders could anymore?

It was one of the arguments for Blood Supremacy: Magicals were getting weaker from intermingling with muggles and muggle-borns. Harry didn't find it particularly credible, but some people did.

"So, who do you think it is, Harry?" Tracey asked.

"My sister," he quipped, to the snickering of his friends. "Isn't it always?"

"Kidding aside, Harry," Theo said.

He hummed in thought. It wasn't just for effect, either. Harry genuinely did not know, though if he had to guess- 

"Malfoy," Harry said.

Blaise snorted. "No, really."

"Really." The room hung on his every word. "Consider it: Lucius Malfoy had some kind of plot going on this year, part of which was his scuffle with Arthur Weasley in Diagon Alley. Draco's a temperamental git who goes through with half-baked plans all the time. Remember his plan to get my sister caught last year? Him accidentally setting a snake monster on a cat instead of a muggleborn makes a lot of sense."

"But Harry, if he's the Heir of Slytherin, that means-" Theo began, but didn't finish.

Everyone knew what he was thinking: If Draco was the Heir, that meant no amount of cunning would put Harry over him in their class. Hell, if Draco was the Heir of Slytherin, he probably surpassed most of the upper years in social standing.

"And you're saying he read the writing in blood out loud to deflect suspicion?" Blaise asked.

"Dunno. Maybe he was just rubbing it in our faces," Harry said. "I do feel like he's not clever enough to play the game on that level, but countries have lost wars for underestimating their enemies before."

His friends seemed to digest that information. The opposite was also true. Sometimes people gave up without a fight because they _overestimated_ the opposition.

"Wouldn't Malfoy have to be a Parselmouth for that theory to be real?" Daphne asked.

"You're right," Harry said. "I can't imagine him managing not to blab about that to everyone, but there's only one way to be sure."

Harry eyed his Basmu thoughtfully. He'd have to prepare anti-venom, just in case. Lucius Malfoy was not an enemy he was ready to make. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was wondering, no, Harry does not know Mrs. Norris' name. That, and given Harry's track record for remembering the names of people he deems unimportant, he'd probably forget, if he ever knew.


	11. Rogue Two: A Slytherin Story

The stands roared (like they usually did) as the Quidditch Teams made their way onto the Pitch. Harry could feel the energy charge him as he clutched his Nimbus 2001 in one hand and his personal Beater's Bat in the other. It didn't have any special enchantments or anything (Madam Hooch had made sure of that), but he'd practiced with it all summer and used it just for that reason.

"Don't come crying to me when I beat your sister," Malfoy said. "Sorry, Harry. Can't go easy today. Father's watching."

Harry snorted. "I'll send a bludger her way whenever she gets one up on you. Try not to do it too much, though: I've only got two bludgers against seven players."

Malfoy looked about ready to loose the Monster of Slytherin on him, but just huffed and walked away. Pity Harry couldn't set a snake on him yet, given he needed to be in top form for Quidditch.

"Can you make sure my sister doesn't get the snitch?" Harry asked Tracey.

Tracey smirked at him. She'd opted to wear a pair of tinted goggles for the match. Evidently while she didn't burn in sunlight, she didn't like it very much. "Not willing to hurl a bludger at her, Harry?"

"Hardly. You just have better reflexes. I'm no slouch, but my sister's a better flyer."

"Says the Boy Who Took Two Bludgers At Once."

He grinned. "It's a lot easier when you're on the ground and have both hands."

Wood and Flint (Harry only then realized how poetic it was the captains had names from things that typically started fires when put together) shook hands in the middle, looking like they were trying to crush each other.

Harry breathed in, savoring the cool November air, and kicked off.

Slytherin trounced Gryffindor quickly, scoring a sixty-point lead thanks both to having better Chasers and Harry and Tracey's individual abilities matching Fred and George's. The Slytherin Beaters didn't sync up nearly as well, but on ability alone, Harry could keep up thanks to their summer training _and_ his subconscious heightened sense of awareness. Tracey's vampiric lineage meant she actually surpassed them a bit, but their telepathy-like synchronization easily evened things out.

Slytherin's score continued to climb when Harry realized something was wrong with his Bludger: No matter how he swatted at it, the thing would speed away only to curve back and come at him again.

His arms started to ache from parrying the hits, and he could've sworn the Bludger was hitting harder than it had before.

"Harry!" he heard Tracey call out just before she sped by, knocking the Bludger maybe twenty meters away.

"Thanks!" he said, gathering his surroundings. He'd had to lower how much attention he was paying to the match after the Bludger went rogue. He quickly noticed a red and gold flyer swooping through the stands, a Bludger hot on its trail and tearing a path of destruction in its wake. Fred and George chased after it, desperately trying to get a handle on the iron ball which, being worse at maneuvering than Willow, had created several holes in the Quidditch Stands.

It seemed he wasn't the only one who'd thought of weaponizing Bludgers.

His own Bludger started to come back. What was that saying? If life gave you lemons…

Harry gripped his broom as tightly as he could with one hand and sped in the Gryffindor Keeper's direction. He actually heard Wood swear before he pivoted sharply away from the goal post and the Bludger socked Wood's broom.

As expected, Dumbledore managed to catch him before he fell to the ground, but that was Gryffindor's Keeper out of commission. Harry moved on to the Chasers, forcing one of the Weasley Terrors to leave Willow to his twin while trying to keep Harry's Bludger from doing too much damage.

At the edge of his perception, Harry noticed both Seekers rushing off in the same direction, Bludger be damned. The Snitch had shown itself, it seemed. Harry growled and pivoted towards the Gryffindor Chasers again, but Fred-or-George had marked him, sending the Bludger away.

The Seekers had disappeared into the stands in search of the Snitch, the Rogue Bludger still hot on Willow's trail.

Harry almost screamed when she zoomed out of one of the holes in the stands the Bludger had made, having managed to catch the Snitch anyway. He actually did scream when Willow's Bludger hit her hard in the shoulder, and his sister fell to the ground. He abandoned all thought and dove down after her, only to see her be caught just in time by Dumbledore.

Harry followed her down, already weighing whether he should attempt to heal her or bring her straight to Madam Pomfrey. 

Lockhart had other ideas. The dunce of a Professor had somehow reached her before he could, and cast a spell Harry would have to ask him about later. Lockhart had somehow managed to completely remove the bones in Willow's arm. 

Her boneless arm sagged like a gross uninflated balloon at her side. A useful spell, to be sure, but not for healing, no.

"There, you see," Lockhart said, all smiles. "No more broken bones."

"You took her whole bloody arm!" Ronald yelled.

Harry shook his head. He'd heard about Skele-Gro from Madam Pomfrey. It didn't sound pleasant.

* * *

Harry's visits to the Hospital Wing had gotten less frequent, he had to admit. He'd intended to keep going every Saturday, but between Qudditch Practice and his extracurricular projects he'd only managed to come four or five times since the school year started.

"Is it really alright for me to stay?" Harry asked.

Madam Pomfrey nodded with a small smile. "Of course, Harry. I'll give you this written note so you don't get in trouble when you go back to your dorm after curfew."

Not that he needed it, of course. He doubted he could get caught by most Prefects with Nyx's abilities keeping him unseen at such a late hour. 

He'd volunteered to help watch his sister for the evening. As he'd heard, Skele-Gro was unpleasant, and she had to stay in the Hospital Wing until her arm bones grew back. Willow currently occupied one of the beds, with the only other patient in the Wing being Filch's Cat.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"Small kindness for all the work you've done for me," she said before giving them some privacy.

"Are you sure you want to stay here, Harry?" Willow asked him. "I'm fine."

Harry scoffed. "Don't pull that brave front rubbish with me, sis. I won't stay here _all_ night."

"It's not fair you handled your Bludger with no problem," Willow said, pouting.

Harry snickered. "Perks of being a Beater."

She frowned. "You could've warned me you were trying for Quidditch."

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked, earning himself an annoyed look from his sister.

"Might want to watch yourself against Wood," she warned him. "He has to go buy a replacement broom after you smashed a Bludger into it."

Harry projected a look of surprise. "I was just trying to get away from it, dear sister."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Right, and I'm the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"There goes my education," Harry quipped. Even Willow had to snicker.

"You suppose it's the Heir's doing?" Willow asked after they'd calmed down.

"What for? The Heir would just send Slytherin's Monster after us."

"How do you-" Willow stopped herself. She'd just winced from trying to sit up.

"Do sit still, sister," Harry drawled. "We can't give you any pain relievers or they'll interfere with the Skele-Gro."

"That stupid Lockhart," Willow hissed.

"It _was_ idiotic," Harry said.

"Harry, it's not you, is it?" Willow asked.

"The Heir of Slyterin?" Harry scoffed. "I'm flattered, but no. It isn't you, obviously, because you'd never forgive yourself for harming a cat."

"Do you have any idea who it is, then?"

Harry hesitated.

"Out with it, Harry."

He sighed. "My theory is that it's Malfoy, but my evidence is circumstantial."

Willow gave him a look. "But you _have_ evidence?"

"Lucius enacted a plot some time this year involving Arthur Weasley. You were there, remember?"

"I thought he was just being a git, like his son."

Harry shook his head. "You don't get to the top of Slytherin's food chain acting like Draco Malfoy. Thing is, none of us have figured out what his ploy is. It might not even have anything to do with Hogwarts."

"So your little circle hasn't figured it out?" Willow asked.

"It's not _my_ circle, Will," Harry pointed out. "It's _a_ circle, that I happen to be in. If anything, it's Daphne's circle. Her family's got the biggest pull in the group."

"Really?"

"Trust me." He thought it would've been going too far against Slytherin Rule Number One to mention Daphne got a private room instead of sleeping in a dorm. He'd been disappointed Malfoy still got one, but apparently Lucius was on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, as was Lord Greengrass.

There was a popping sound behind him that made Harry draw his wand immediately. His other hand went into his pocket for his latest Basmu statue. He didn't lower his wand when he saw it was Dobby.

"Dobby?" Harry asked. "You can apparate into Hogwarts?" 

Hermione probably would have screamed if she found out. _When_ she found out, Harry corrected himself.

"Hello!" Dobby said. "Willow and Harry Potter should have listened to Dobby. They should have gone back home when they missed the train!"

"Ah, so that _was_ you," Harry said calmly.

"Dobby, why do you insist on keeping us away from Hogwarts?" Willow asked.

"Indeed, Sir, Madam. Potter Twins must go home!" Dobby said, starting to look frantic. "Dobby thought his Bludgers would be enough to let Potters see that-"

"That was you?" Harry and Willow said in unison, though Willow seemed annoyed while Harry was just mildly impressed.

"Dobby feels most aggrieved." He presented his fingers, which were wrapped in bandages. "Dobby had to iron his hands."

"You'd better bugger off before my hand grows back, Dobby," Willow said with surprising fury. "Or before I get my other hand on a fire source."

"Dobby is used to threats, Willow Potter. Dobby gets them five times a day from his family."

Harry hummed at that. How many families would abuse their household help like that? Between that, and Dobby trying to get the two of them out of Hogwarts because he knew about something sinister at Hogwarts happening that year, it was pretty clear Dobby worked for a Dark wizarding family.

"I'm sorry, Dobby," Willow said. The idea the House Elf was abused seemed to melt away her fury. "Maybe if you told me why you're trying to kill me."

"Not kill you, Madam. Never kill you!" Dobby answered. "Dobby remembers what it was like before you defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. We House Elves were treated like vermin, madam!"

" _Quietus,_ " Harry incanted just as Dobby began to sob into the filthy pillow case that served as his shirt.

The sudden change in volume seemed to snap Dobby out of it, because he hopped back onto the bed, urging the Potter Twins to come closer so he could whisper. Willow didn't try to sit up again.

"Listen! Terrible things are about to happen in Hogwarts! The Potters must not stay here now that history is about to repeat itself."

Harry nodded. "Don't suppose you can tell us any more than that?"

"Dobby cannot."

Harry nodded again, deciding to move on. "So, you removed the safeties on the Bludgers and keyed them to only go after Willow and me?"

Dobby sobbed into his pillow case again. "Dobby is sorry, sir. Dobby was only trying to-"

"Can you do it again?" Harry asked.

"Excuse me?" Willow asked.

Dobby shot him a puzzled look. "Dobby could, sir. Such enchanted items are often the work of House Elves, they are. But Dobby does not understand. Was Harry Potter not angry with Dobby for setting a Bludger on him?"

Harry smirked. "Hardly. If anything, I was impressed. I almost won that game with that Bludger. So, can you do it now? And key the Bludgers so they'll hit whoever I choose?"

Dobby's large eyes blinked.

"Consider it your atonement for what you've done so far this year," Harry said.

"Oh. Of course, sir. Dobby is grateful for your mercy and kindness. Dobby will do it."

Harry unshrunk his new trunk, the Prydwen, and brought out the two bludgers he'd bought during the summer. They'd been put to sleep so they wouldn't damage the Prydwen from the inside. He instructed Dobby to key the Bludgers to his magic, so they'd go after whatever he designated as a target.

He tried to follow Dobby's process, but since the House Elf used wordless, wandless magic to do it, he barely got anything. He supposed there was no way Dobby could teach him to do it since their methods differed so greatly.

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry said. He was tempted to test them out, but that could wait until he got back to the Lakescape Room.

"Dobby is happy to serve, sir, but what did Harry Potter need two Bludgers like this for?"

"So if I ever run into Slytherin's Monster, I have some way to hold it off," he answered. It applied to more than just Slytherin's Monster, actually, and on anything less it would probably do more than just 'hold it off' but Dobby didn't need to know that.

Willow seemed to have picked up on it because she just shook her head. Harry ignored her. He wasn't taking judgement like that from someone who incinerated Quirrell-mort in front of four Aurors.

Harry heard the sound of movement, and then Dobby snapped his fingers, once again proving there were exceptions to Hogwarts preventing all apparating and disapparating. Harry made a mental note to study the feasibility of House Elf Assassins, though he supposed someone else would've done it by now if it worked.

He spotted Dumbledore bringing in someone on a stretcher with a bunch of Professors at his side. 

"There's been another attack," he heard Dumbledore say.

"I think he's been petrified," McGonagall's voice spoke.

Harry and Willow shot each other a glance and opted to stay quiet. There was a flash as Dumbledore tried to open a camera that had been around the boy's neck.

"It's Colin Creevey," Willow muttered under her breath, looking horrified. She spotted Harry's questioning expression and added, "First year. Keeps trying to take a picture of me."

Harry nodded. He remembered him now, vaguely.

"What should I tell the staff, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"The truth. Tell them Hogwarts is no longer safe: The Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again."

Harry waited until the Professors left, and then bade Willow good night before sneaking back to his dorm. None of his Slytherin friends were muggle-born but he feared for Justin and Hermione.

The Heir needed to be stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine it: House Elves apparating into someone's house and shanking them with retractable daggers attached to their wrists, then they jump off a building to escape and disapparate away before hitting the ground.


	12. A Something of Fire and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update for today. Maybe more tomorrow.

"I can't believe they're organizing this _now_ ," Theo commented as their crew walked into the Great Hall.

An elevated stage had been set up in the middle to accommodate the new 'Dueling Club.' Students from all Four Houses gathered around it, though all were second years. They'd been divided by year to 'keep things fair.'

"As if we can _duel_ Slytherin's Monster," Blaise quipped.

"Might be a good spot to learn new spells, at least," Harry offered, trying to stay positive.

"I doubt it," Theo said. "They'll probably stick us to _Expelliarmus_ or something."

"Who do you think is teaching?" Tracey asked.

"Snape," Harry, Theo, Blaise, and Daphne said at almost the same time. 

"He's been after the Defense Against the Dark Arts position forever," Theo said. "Dumbledore won't let him have it but this is a good loophole for him to teach it _without_ being the Defense Professor."

Hermione and Neville showed up shortly after and joined them.

"Why are you two here?" Blaise asked. 

"I thought it'd be educational," Hermione said.

"I, er, I thought it'd help with my wand work if I joined."

Harry spotted Willow on the other side of the stage with Susan, Ronald and a bunch of other Gryffindors. He gave her a nod which she returned.

Theo's eyes widened a fraction. "Wait. Is that- Please tell me this is a joke."

Professor Lockhart strode from one end of the dueling stage to the center. "Gather round!" he said. "Can everybody see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent."

" _Why?_ " Theo asked, just loud enough that only their circle could hear.

"So much for learning anything," Neville complained.

"I'm sure he'll do great," Justin added with no hint of sarcasm.

Harry nearly jumped. "When did you get here?"

Justin smirked at him. "Apologies. I was a bit late is all."

Lockhart went on before Harry could ask more. "In the light of dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club - to train you all up, in case you ever need to defend yourselves. As I myself have done on multiple occassions." He beamed at them. "For full details, see my published works."

"We have, and that's why we know you can't duel," Blaise quipped.

"Let me introduce my assistant," Lockhart declared. "Professor Snape!"

Snape trodded up the stage with far less enthusiasm than Lockhart had.

"He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration," Lockhart said. "Now, I don't want you youngsters to worry: You'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him."

They faced each other in the center, raised their wands in a customary salute, and bowed before turning in place to pace towards opposite edges of the stage.

Snape raised his wand in a ready stance while Lockhart held his like a fencer would a foil.

"One. Two. Three!"

" _Expelliarmus,_ " Snape drawled, extending the incantation so Lockhart could easily counter.

He did not. Lockhart's wand flew out of his hands as a blast of light sent him sprawling backwards.

"Do you think he's alright?" Hermione asked.

"Do we care?" Theo asked back.

Lockhart got back up. "An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying (Harry had a feeling Snape did mind) it was pretty obvious what you were about to do. If I'd really wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy."

Snape ignored him. "Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach students how to block unfriendly spells."

"An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape!" Lockhart grinned. "Let's have a volunteer pair. Potter, Weasley, how about you? Harry, I mean!"

Harry tried not to grin. If they honestly expected him to stick to the disarming charm against Ronald, they had another thing coming.

"Weasley's broken wand causes devastation with the simplest spell," Snape drawled. "If we allow them to duel, Potter will be going to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox. May I suggest someone else from my House? Malfoy?"

There was a murmur of disapproval from the students at two Slytherins duking it out when there were three other Houses present, but nobody dared to vocally protest Snape's decision. Harry was torn. On the one hand, it wasn't good to show the other Houses rivalry within Slytherin, and Snape should've known that.

Harry's lips formed a thin smile as he climbed up the stage. On the other hand, it was a good opportunity to knock Malfoy down a few pegs.

"Good luck, Harry," Lockhart muttered as they passed each other. Harry nodded.

"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart called, and the two boys raised their wands like they'd seen Snape and Lockhart do.

"Think you can take me in a real duel?" Malfoy asked.

Harry held his gaze. "If this were a real fight, you'd be bleeding out by now with half your bones broken."

They did bow, more for appearances than anything else, and then paced towards the opposite ends of the table. Malfoy raised his wand like he'd seen Snape do while Harry imitated Lockhart. He wondered what Malfoy would do. He'd traded (well, gave more than he got, really) hexes with Ronald enough times to know anticipation played a big part in dueling.

"On the count of three, cast your Charms to disarm your opponent. _Only_ to disarm," Lockhart said. "We don't want any accidents here."

One.

Malfoy wanted to show him up, certainly, but what was the last thing Harry had done that would- Oh.

Two.

" _Flipendo!_ " Draco incanted, and the blue blast of energy hurtled towards Harry, but he'd been expecting something like that and stepped aside.

The Knockback Jinx instead hit Lockhart, who went sailing through the air. 

" _Serpensortia!_ " Harry yelled almost at the same time Malfoy did.

Harry grinned. He'd guessed right. It was time to test if Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin.

Two snakes formed. A cobra of some sort flew out of Malfoy's wand, landing on the floor. Harry, on the other hand, had learned from his multiple Conjurations experiments that you could decide where the Snake appeared and in what position. His constrictor was already on the ground, coiled to strike when Malfoy's cobra landed.

The constrictor immediately engulfed the cobra, crushing its weaker body. As Malfoy was distracted by the battle between Cobras, Harry sent a quick _Expelliarmus_ his way, taking Malfoy's wand.

The Constrictor advanced into Malfoy's space. If he was a Parselmouth, now would've been the time for him to use his ability. Instead, Malfoy just turned and fled from the stage.

_I guess he doesn't talk to snakes,_ Nyx commented.

_Apparently not,_ Harry agreed. Unfortunately, that sent him straight back to square one concerning the identity of the Heir.

Still, he'd won. He smirked and dispelled his Conjuration before turning to leave. The message was clear: The spells may have been the same, but not the technique.

"Good show, good show!" Lockhart said as Harry stepped off the stage. "Well, that went so well I think another volunteer pair is in order. I think I know who everyone would like to see. Please come up, Willow Potter!"

Willow put on her brave face and climbed the steps, waiting for an opponent.

"Then in that case," Snape drawled. "I think Miss Greengrass should suffice."

Daphne shot Harry a glance, but he just offered her a thin smile. She could go all out if she wanted. Willow probably would.

She nodded, understanding the message and climbed the stage with her usual grace and refinement. In truth, knowing Daphne, she'd only been asking for politeness' sake. If he's said no, she would've gone all out anyway.

"The Flame Princess of Gryffindor versus the Ice Princess of Slytherin," Theo said. "Feel like betting, gentlemen?"

"Five Galleons on Willow," Blaise said.

"Five on Daphne," Harry answered. "Willow doesn't have her lighter out."

Blaise made a face. "Bollocks. You're right."

"How'd you know Malfoy was going to conjure a snake?" Theo asked.

Blaise, Tracey, Hermione, Justin, and Neville leaned in closer to listen.

Harry smirked. "I didn't. But I saw his face when I conjured the swan during the incident with the Pixies. Thought it was reasonable to guess he'd try to show me up with his own Conjuration."

Theo opened his mouth, then closed it. Harry guessed he'd been about to say Harry conjured snakes all the time, but remembered Harry only ever did that in private. Harry grinned at him. He did so love having friends who thought at the same pace as him.

* * *

_Daphne_

She raised her wand in a friendly salute at the same time Harry's sister raised hers. The two of them had never spoken before, but she knew the girl by reputation, and from Harry's stories.

There was no banter for there was nothing to be said between them. If not for Harry, the two of them would have had no connection whatsoever. Nevertheless, even if she _was_ the Girl Who Lived and this _was_ just a meaningless exhibition match, Daphne held the honor of House Greengrass on her shoulders. Her ancestors had been proud duelists. She couldn't afford to lose on so public a stage.

In truth, she'd started to doubt herself when the Potters almost single-handedly manipulated the outcome of the House Cup during First Year. Daphne had won points for Slytherin, certainly, and lost none in turn, but she couldn't claim over two hundred points contributed by herself.

Snape had probably noticed it when he'd picked her. He'd given her a chance to prove the power of her House, and she wouldn't squander it.

Even without Harry's consent, she wouldn't have held back.

Their wands were both raised high as Lockhart counted.

One.

Two.

Three!

" _Expelliarmus!_ " her opponent incanted, but the red sparks were slashed asunder by Daphne's wand.

She countered with an _Expelliarmus_ of her own, but the girl simply stepped aside. Time to kick it up a notch, then.

" _Immobulus!_ " Daphne called out, and a wave of paralyzing energy sprang form her wand to cover Willow's side of the stage.

That time, the other girl evaded by ducking, and then shot a _Flipendo_ at her. Daphne slashed the Knockback Jinx apart.

" _Glacius!_ " she incanted, and a blast of cold wind shot from her wand, engulfing the other side of the stage, but Willow countered with an _Incendio._

Daphne had all she needed, though.

" _Ventus!_ " A powerful gust of wind flowed through the narrow stage and sent Willow slipping on the ice she'd created with _Glacius_ and landing on her hands and knees.

As the Girl Who Lived staggered to regain her balance, Daphne shot off a quick _Expelliarmus,_ but Willow rolled to the side, prone as she was on the ground, firing off a Disarming Charm of her own. Daphne whirled to avoid it.

" _Immobulus!_ " Daphne shouted, and another wave of paralyzing energy sweeped the stage, lower to the ground this time. Willow rolled off the stage to avoid it. Daphne's icy demeanor cracked slightly as she fired off another one. The crowd surrounding the stage drew back to avoid getting hit.

She'd taken dueling lessons since before first year! Sure, it was mostly forms and movements but still. She didn't openly tell Harry, but she was pretty sure she'd stand by him against the Dark Lord, too. The boy had the makings of greatness. He might very well be the power figure of their generation. She'd practiced so she could represent House Greengrass when that time came, so how was she losing to this Gryffindor who'd fluked her victory against Voldemort?

" _Serpensortia!_ " she incanted, and a large constrictor like she'd seen Harry summon shot out of her wand. It closed the distance to Willow quickly, but Daphne commanded it not to actually harm her. This was only a practice duel.

Willow froze in place. "I yield!" she said.

Daphne smirked, holding back the sigh of relief. She had to appear strong, no matter how relieved she was that she'd managed to beat Willow Potter. Still, the girl deserved _some_ punishment for flustering Daphne so, which was why she hadn't yet dispelled the snake.

"Stand aside, Potter," Snape drawled. "I'll get rid of it for you."

"Allow me, Professor Snape!" Lockhart spoke, wand already out. 

Daphne suddenly had a bad feeling.

" _Alarte Ascendare!_ " Lockhart incanted, and the snake shot straight up into the air before landing in front of Harry's party. Particularly, it stood in front of Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Daphne raised her wand to dispel the serpent when Willow Potter approached it and began hissing. The snake stopped slithering towards Justin, and seemed to be conversing with Willow. Daphne's wand stayed aloft, its owner stunned at what she was seeing: Both Potter Twins were Parselmouths, and she was fairly sure no one would care Daphne Greengrass had beaten Willow Potter in a duel when the latter was quite possibly the Heir of Slytherin.

* * *

_Harry_

" _Vipera Evanesca._ " Snape's spell caused the constrictor to vanish in a flash of heat.

Harry being a Parselmouth himself, he'd caught the conversation, of course. She'd calmed the snake down so it wouldn't attack Justin, but he knew all about the irrational fear of the unknown. People would not take it well.

Still. Willow was a Parselmouth. He could scarcely believe it. Feelings warred within him. On the one hand, he worried about her now that everyone knew. He imagined no one would care she was the Girl Who Lived, nor that she was in Gryffindor. They would conclude _she_ was Slytherin's Heir despite the flaws in that theory.

Daphne rejoined them. Her face was impassive as always, but Harry thought he noticed sorrow in them, and a hint of envy. That was the other thing he felt: Would he never get anything that Willow didn't? She'd gotten a good life with the Bones, the Invisibility Cloak, special treatment from the faculty. He finally thought he had something special she didn't and it turned out she was a Parselmouth too.

He gave her a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Remind me not to get on _your_ bad side," he told her.

Daphne smirked back. "Like you'd ever forget."

"True. You _are_ quite intimidating," Harry quipped. "Thanks for winning me ten Galleons, by the way."

He opened a hand and Theo and Blaise deposited his winnings. 

"You bet against your sister?" Daphne asked. She was surprised, he knew, but Daph was nothing if not a master of her emotions.

He weighed his words carefully. He wanted to encourage her without laying it on too thick. "Of course. You aren't a Dark Lady threatening the fate of the world. Heroes only win when the odds are that high, and usually at great cost to themselves." Then, in a lower whisper, "Or, you know, when four Aurors already have the bad guy immobilized."

Daphne's smirk rose just a little bit. Harry was glad. It was bad enough _he_ lived in his younger sister's shadow. His friends didn't have to.

Rather than returning immediately to their dorms, Harry signalled his crew (He'd started thinking maybe Willow was right and it _was_ his crew) to head to the Lakescape room for a short meeting. He mentioned he'd catch up after a short talk with his sister.

He also approached Justin, who'd looked terrified at being nearly assaulted by a snake.

"You alright there, Justin?" Harry asked.

"Y-yeah," Justin answered. It was rare to see his composure shaken. Or perhaps that was deliberate and he was playing the role of a scared Hufflepuff.

"Listen, about half of the study group is meeting to talk about _recent events._ " He didn't say which half, but Justin seemed to understand. "If you're not busy, come with us. I think it's about time we filled you in on a few things."

"Bloody hell, Harry," Justin breathed. "This isn't some kind of cult where you sacrifice the muggle-born, is it?"

Harry snorted. "Justin, if I wanted to sacrifice a muggle-born, I'd have picked a less clever target."

"Flatterer. Where?"

"Go with Theo and Blaise," Harry said. "I'll catch up. I just have another meeting first."

Justin smirked. "Another meeting? You sound like my parents."

Harry shrugged and sauntered away.

_Nyx, call her attention for me, will you? Tell her Fairy we can meet in the usual spot._

_Yes, Harry._

He waited by the shadowed space outside the Great Hall as Willow came into view. She walked with confidence, but Harry thought her shoulders were sagging a little bit. Willow had clearly been taught how to project in public, but she wasn't nearly as good as Daphne.

"Hey, Will," Harry said.

"Harry, is Justin alright?" she asked.

"Yeah. He'll be fine. I'll talk to him."

She sighed in relief. "Oh, thank Merlin. People think I'm Slytherin's Heir!"

"Well, you have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time," Harry said. "How long have you known you're a Parselmouth?"

"Since I talked to a snake in the Bones garden," Willow admitted. "I was probably six."

Harry nodded. So she'd even learned about it before he did about his own. "Who knew before now?"

"Just Susan, Amelia, and Gretchin," she said. "Amelia said I shouldn't advertise it, but I couldn't let the snake get at Justin."

"Er, I hate to break it to you, sis, but you didn't actually have to step in," Harry said softly. "Constrictors aren't venomous, and Daphne was about to dispel it when you started talking to it."

Willow let out a sound like she was being strangled. "Merlin, I'm a fool."

"It's alright," Harry said. "Listen, Tracey is one of two people in our year who run the Slytherin rumor mill. I'll try to talk to her about it."

"You really think she could help?" Willow asked.

"We'll think of something," Harry said. He had no practice with writing propaganda, but Tracey and Daphne probably did.

"We're second years!" Willow protested.

Harry looked at her coolly. "Please, sis. You've killed a Mountain Troll. Compared to that, writing a smear campaign is nothing."

She seemed to consider that, but only nodded. "Alright, Harry. Do your thing. Thank you."

"I just hope it helps." He really did.

"I can't believe people think it's me and not Malfoy," Willow said. 

"Er, about that," Harry said. "I don't think it's him anymore, either."

"What?"

"He isn't a Parselmouth, Will," Harry answered. "I set a Constrictor on him for a reason. Well, multiple reasons, really, but the fact is, if he _were_ the Heir of Slytherin, he would've easily commanded my snake to turn against me."

He did not mention that being a Parselmouth himself, he probably could've handled it.

"Bloody hell, why does everything have to be so complicated?" Willow fumed.

Harry offered her a gentle pat.

* * *

Harry decided he'd need to snag another couch for the Lakescape Room if he intended to keep growing his inner circle like this. He felt a tad guilty about not bringing Hermione and Neville in yet, since they'd been nothing but good to him, but he didn't need them advertising his snake experiments and being a Parselmouth while the school was in an uproar over the attacks.

He'd caught Justin up on what they knew about the Heir, and how he was a Parselmouth, too, and could assure him Willow was only trying to stop the Constrictor from attacking, misguided as her efforts were.

"Give her my thanks for me," Justin said.

"Actually, you can do that yourself," Daphne said. "It would be good optics if you showed you weren't against her. Just remember not to let her know Harry can understand snakes, too."

"Oh." Justin grinned. "I didn't realize we were running a propaganda campaign. Fun."

"One day I'm going to find out what it is your family does," Tracey said.

Justin inclined his head. "Maybe."

"So, Trace, you got any more ideas?" Harry asked.

"Any rumors making her seem like a hero are out," Tracey said almost immediately. "We don't want the rest of Slytherin bearing down on us. Suppose a smear campaign would work."

"I was thinking the same thing," Harry said. "Got anything specific?"

"We could appeal to Salazar's Legacy," Daphne suggested. "Say anyone who'd believe a _Gryffindor_ is the Heir of Slytherin needs their head checked."

"Not to mention our long-standing rivalry," Theo offered. "We could say Slytherin denounces any claims she's the Heir of our Founder."

"I like that," Harry said. "Do you think the rumor will stick?"

"Well, the First Years look up to us," Tracey said. "Thanks to your little stunt of inter-mingling the first and second year tables."

Harry nodded. They'd continued doing so over the year after the Welcoming Feast proved successful. He hadn't had a chance to really inter-mingle with his juniors besides Ginny on occasion, so while they'd never be in his inner circle (it felt weird thinking he had an 'inner circle' now) they did hold Harry's crew (again, weird thought) in high regard.

"Not so sure about the upper years?" Harry asked.

"No. Not at all," Tracey admitted. "Though there isn't much advantage in claiming Willow's the Heir. If anything, it makes Slytherin House look weak since she's not in it."

Harry nodded. He'd been counting on that.

"Brilliant," he said. "I knew I could count on you."

It was a brilliant plan that would both keep Willow away from suspicion _and_ keep the school on alert about whom the real Heir was. Harry just hoped it worked as intended.

* * *

The propaganda did _not_ work as intended.

Well, it _had_ worked for a grand total of two days, but then Willow had been found with the petrified bodies of both Justin _and_ Nearly-Headless Nick.

Harry was beside himself with fury. The previous attacks had been disturbing, but the Heir had gone after Justin now. Now, it was _personal._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) Glacius is an actual spell from the wiki. Funnily enough, it's called the "Freezing Spell" and is mostly used in the games whereas Immobulus is the "Freezing Charm." You probably see now why I just call both spells by their incantations.
> 
> 2.) Ventus is Latin for wind. You probably already know this because I'm hardly the first fic writer to use it. Also Kingdom Hearts.
> 
> 3.) Two duels is a bit excessive, maybe, but I feel like Lockhart is the type of guy who goes "oh damn that first thing I did got 1 million views on youtube, I'll do it again but slightly different"


	13. Intruders, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important announcement before we get to the story. The fic series that inspired these fics, Sarcasm and Slytherin, is back. Sunmoonandstars has returned in the form of an anonymous little bird. https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721513/chapters/59756794
> 
> Thanks to 1000IMangos who informed me via comment. 
> 
> Now that the original is back, I can stop writing this poor imitation.
> 
> But I won't, because Firestarter was the first fic I ever finished writing and I don't feel like breaking my streak just yet.

_Draco_

Draco glared at the room, his mouth covered by a thick cloth gag. He was bound tightly to a wooden chair with what felt like thick stone.

He saw only an empty classroom and a single robed figure in front of him. It was wearing a thick mask that covered its face, its hair completely concealed by a tattered hood. The mask had the engraving of a squid-like being, except rather than tentacles, it had snake heads.

The sight sent chills down his spine. It reminded him of Father's Death Eater robes that he still had stowed away in one of Malfoy Manor's hidden rooms.

He'd been minding his own business when Crabbe said Professor Snape was looking for him, and told him to come alone. He hadn't walked three steps when something hit him and he fell unconscious.

The figure studied him curiously. He couldn't even tell what color its eyes were! It gestured with its wand and the cloth gag around his face came undone.

"W-who are you?" Draco asked. Damn! He'd been trying to sound intimidating, but it came out as a high-pitched squeak. "Do you know who my father is?"

"You don't know?" the figure drawled. Its voice was deep, and seemed to savor each syllable as it spoke. For some reason it reminded Draco of the ocean. "My, my, what _is_ Lucius doing?"

Draco's breathing hitched. So it _did_ know who his father was. And it didn't care. But who in Hogwarts would-

"This is a prank, isn't it?" Draco demanded. "Release me right now, or I'll-"

Draco stopped, feeling something slither over his shoulder. It was a cobra of some sort, flicking its tongue on his neck. He shuddered in response. The figure seemed to hiss and the cobra backed off, slithering down to rest on Draco's lap.

This wasn't a prank, was it? Draco's mouth felt very dry. "Y-you're the Heir of Slytherin!"

"Not as slow-witted as you seem," the Heir of Slytherin answered, still in its slow drawl. 

"But I'm pure-blood!" Draco said. "I'm your ally!"

"Bold of you to assume," the figure said, playing idly with its wand. "Tell me, Draco, what has your father told you about me?"

"H-he said you'd set Slytherin's Monster loose on the mudbloods, and that I was to stay out of your way," Draco answered. "Oh, no. Have I- have I gotten in your way?"

"Do you think you've gotten in my way?"

Draco froze. He didn't know. His father had gotten him tutors for talking to people, but he'd never paid attention. He'd thought being born a Malfoy would be enough. Whoever the Heir was, they radiated the same confidence and danger Father did towards his enemies.

"I- I could be of use to you!"

The Heir ignored him. "What else has your Father told you?"

"Nothing. He refused to talk to me about it, I swear on the honor of House Malfoy!" It was true, too. Father had specifically told him to just let the Heir do their job.

"Very well, Draco Malfoy," the Heir said. "I give you now two options."

Draco tensed in his chair. Was the Heir offering him vassalage? Because he would accept in a heartbeat.

"I'll do it. I'll serve you, my lord!" Draco spoke.

The cloaked figured inclined its head. Even without seeing its face, Draco knew it was inspecting him the way one would inspect an insect. "I refuse. You're of no use to me."

Draco bit his lip, fuming. How dare this-

The Heir pulled a flask seemingly out of nowhere and placed it on the desk attached to Draco's chair. "This is Forgetfulness Potion," the Heir drawled. "You may drink this and forget we ever met. I'd just Memory Charm you but I'm afraid I might be too powerful. Wouldn't want you living the rest of your life like a Squib, would we? It would break dear Lucius' heart."

Draco's eyes widened. "And the other option?"

"I leave this room and you don't," the figure said flatly, indicating the cobra that was still sitting in Draco's lap. "The venom will kill you slowly enough that by the time Dumbledore detects your death, I'll be long gone. Your choice, Heir of House Malfoy."

Draco couldn't see it of course, but he had a feeling the figure was grinning wickedly behind the mask. What kind of choice was that?

"I'll drink."

"That's a good boy."

* * *

"He doesn't know anything," Harry told his friends (sans Justin) in the Lakescape Room the next day. He knew he sounded tired, but he'd just orchestrated an interrogation inside Hogwarts and had nothing to show for it. Justin was still petrified and his attacker a mystery.

"I still can't believe you pulled that off by yourself," Daphne muttered.

He'd told them all about his plan to squeeze information out of Draco without raising any alarms _after_ he'd done it. The results had been disappointing, though Harry found he rather enjoyed playing the role of an upstart Dark Lord. It was an unnerving thought.

"So the outfit was- what, Transfigured?" Blaise asked.

"Muggle Halloween costume," Harry answered. "Flown in by owl the previous night with minor transfiguration to make it seem more authentic."

"And your voice?" Tracey asked.

Harry smiled thinly and spoke in the same drawl he'd used on Malfoy. "I can sound like someone else by changing the pitch and cadence when I speak. Oh, and I dropped the accent. Or tried, at least. Think it was still there a bit, but it worked. English actors do it all the time when they go to Hollywood."

He'd also shrunken the other chairs in the room to make the illusion that he was taller. It would've been obvious if one took a moment to consider things, but he'd kept Draco off balance.

Nobody asked why he didn't just use Nyx. Draco had rudimentary Occlumency training, after all. Lucius didn't want his son giving up family secrets. The empty classroom had been provided by Fred and George, the snake was obviously a Conjuration, and the bindings were just bandages turned to stone.

"So we really have no leads," Theo said.

Harry sighed. "We do not."

"Are you going to tell Willow?" Daphne asked.

"That Malfoy doesn't know anything? Yes," he said. "How I found out? Probably not."

She nodded. "Well, are we going to sit around all day or do what we said we were going to do?"

Harry snorted. "Fine, fine. Clear the couches."

They'd decided that, while the official Dueling Club was no longer a thing after Willow revealed she was a Parselmouth, they could still do it in private.

The couches were quickly moved aside, creating a clear space in the middle so two people could duel while the rest sat at the sides.

"I'll go last," Harry declared before sitting down. He felt exhausted despite the long night's rest.

"I'll go," Theo said, taking position on one side of the room. "Can we skip the whole meeting in the middle and then pacing to opposite sides bit?"

"How barbaric," Blaise quipped, though he took the opposite side all the same.

"I'll count you off," Tracey off.

Harry was suddenly aware that he was seated in the middle of Tracey and Daphne on a single couch, which was a strange feeling to be sure. Damned prepubescent hormones.

"One. Two. Three!"

Blaise and Theo exploded into action. They clearly hadn't been joking when they said at the end of first year they'd take lessons over the summer.

Theo seemed to prefer parrying spells while Blaise liked to dodge them, though they switched it up from time to time to avoid being predictable.

A stray Knockback Jinx nearly got Harry before Daphne managed to swat it away with her own wand. He muttered a quick "Thanks" and went back to focusing on the duel.

They avoided anything that Harry couldn't heal afterwards, but still managed to put on an intense duel that mimicked the one Daphne and Willow had on stage.

In the end, though, Theo got Blaise with a Full Body-Bind Curse. Theo cast a _Finite_ to let Blaise get up.

Daphne and Tracey went up next, with Harry counting them off.

On three, Daphne opened up with a Disarming Charm, but Tracey twirled out of its way with ease, sending a Knockback Jinx Daphne's direction which she parried.

Daphne sent a wider-range _Immobulus_ but Tracey managed to dodge out of its way too. The black-haired girl gave Daphne a sharp-toothed grin before countering with a Full Body-Bind that Daphne sliced through like butter.

Harry had never seen Tracey duel before, but he _had_ seen her in Quidditch and knew she had heightened reflexes from her Vampire lineage. He'd had a feeling she'd be good in a duel, but this proved it.

" _Glacius!_ " Daphne incanted, sending a wave of frost forward. Tracey managed to avoid the brunt of the blast, but slipped on the thin sheet of frost on the floor. Daphne took advantage of the stumbling, firing off another _Immobulus._

"Looks like I'm up," Harry said.

"Actually, I'm up," Theo said with a smirk. "Winner gets to fight you."

Harry's mouth fell open an inch. What was going on? What were they-

"You know, when I said I'd go last I didn't mean as the champion or whatever," he protested. "I just needed a breather."

He wasn't even that good a duelist.

"Well, aren't we being presumptuous?" Daphne quipped. "We're just letting you skip the preliminaries because you sound tired."

Tracey counted them off. On three, Daphne and Theo engaged in a duel for the ages.

Daphne met each of Theo's spells head-on with her wand, and Theo did the same for hers. Harry knew what was coming, of course, and Theo probably did, too. It seemed Daphne had gotten used to being called an Ice Princess and decided to reclaim the moniker on her own terms.

" _Glacius!_ " Daphne incanted.

Theo was barely a second behind. " _Incendio!_ "

Fire clashed with frost in the center, forming a cover of steam and a small pool of water on the floor.

" _Avis!_ " Theo yelled, and two familiar-looking jungle birds appeared on either side of him.

Daphne had lucked out, though, since she'd been casting _Immobulus._

Theo and his conjured birds stood frozen in place while Daphne bowed to her audience, smirking the whole time. She finally took pity on Theo and cast _Finite_ when Harry gave her an accusing look.

"Bloody hell, Daph," Theo said. "You could've popped me free sooner."

She grinned. "I also could've popped you free later. You ready to go, Harry?"

"You don't want to take a breather?" he asked.

Daphne considered, then shrugged. "Alright. Five minutes, then we go."

Five mintues later, they faced each other with wands similarly held like fencing foils. Harry thought he understood it now. People who parried tended to hold them like fencers while people who evaded a lot held them aloft.

One.

Daphne would probably open with an offensive spell.

Two.

He should probably get ready to parry it.

Three.

" _Glacius!_ " Daphne incanted.

Harry was not prepared. The wave of frost struck him, throwing him back and sending his teeth chattering.

" _Finite Incantatem!_ " Daphne practically yelled, and the feeling of cold vanished.

"Thanks, Da-"

"What the hell was that?" she asked, glaring at him.

Harry looked at her with wide eyes. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't you dare go easy on me again." Daphne raised her wand back to a ready position.

"I didn't-"

"Duel me like you mean it," she said. "Tracey, count us off again."

What was she thinking? He couldn't duel her like he meant it. She'd die.

One.

If he was serious, he'd just sic his Bludgers on her, not to mention Nyx, the Potions in the Prydwen, his captive Mountain Troll… 

Two.

Fine. He could play it his way.

Three.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Daphne said, shooting red sparks out of her wand.

Harry spun away from the spell. " _Ferula!_ "

Daphne instinctively parried, but instead of shooting at her, the spell stopped a few inches from Harry's wand, forming a thin wall of bandages.

" _Ventus!_ " Harry yelled, sending the thin bandages flying at her. _"Duro!"_

The bandages turned to stone mid-flight, still maintaining most of their momentum. 

" _Reducio!_ " Daphne cried out, turning the stone the size of bond paper. It cracked against the wall behind her.

Daphne sent an _Immobulus_ his way, which he blocked by calling up another wall of stone using _Ferula_ and _Duro._

" _Avis!_ " Harry incanted, sending a murder of crows after Daphne. 

" _Glacius!_ " she countered, turing them all into ice sculptures before they shattered on the ground.

Daphne's blue eyes gleamed, then, seeming to revel in the challenge. " _Miblewimble!_ "

Harry parried the Tongue-Tying Curse, grinning back at her. " _Serpensortia! Engorgio!_ "

The Constrictor swelled to twice its size, nearly occupying all the space between them. It sprung forward, but Daphne shut it down with another _Glacius,_ which it was particularly vulnerable to, being cold-blooded.

They were both panting, it seemed. Harry didn't think he'd ever cast so many spells in succession before, and Daphne had been dueling the entire time minus the five minute reprieve.

" _Densaugeo!_ " Daphne's spell flew straight into the wall as Harry spun away at the last second.

" _Ferula!_ " The bandages appeared a few inches from Daphne, ready to bind her in place.

" _Ventus!_ " she countered, sending the bandages off-course with a gust of wind.

" _Viperifors!_ " Harry incanted, transforming the bandages into another Constrictor, which used its heavy weight to push against the wind and twine around Daphne. Not with much force, of course. Harry didn't want to actually hurt her.

Daphne looked like she was about to protest, then seemed to realize in a real fight the Constrictor would've crushed her wand already. "Fine, you win. Good fight, Harry."

"Bloody good fight," Harry said, catching his breath. "You're a brilliant duelist, you know that? Merlin and Morgana, I'm so tired."

He unshrunk his trunk, took out two of his five (he used _Duro_ to keep them from spoiling in addition to the preservation charms) Wiggenwelds, and offered the other to Daphne. She took it gratefully. They both still had to sit down and catch their breaths after downing the potions.

"What was that about you being a shit duelist?" Theo asked.

"Never said I was shit," Harry said. "Just that I didn't want to be seeded at the top of the bracket for no reason."

"Well, mate," Blaise added. "Looks like we were about right."

"Daphne was exhausted and she _still_ almost beat me," he reminded them. He didn't know why exactly he was putting himself down. It wasn't like he was particularly humble, nor was Daphne's ego so fragile.

"Fine," Daphne said. "Next time, we both go first."

Harry smirked. "You bet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viperifors is latin for... snake form. But you probably knew that. I figured if they can turn an object into a bird, turning it into a snake is probably just as doable.


	14. Intruders, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got an interesting question from a reader: Why is Harry good at dueling?
> 
> I realized then, that I hadn't bothered to ask myself that because on some level, it made sense to me, but there was no conscious thought process as to why he was good at it. But to answer, it's because my brain knew, subconsciously, that Harry had spent most of the summer dodging and deflecting magical cannon balls using a big piece of wood, and that translated well to dueling, especially since he spent all of the first half of summer on the ground to really get a feel for it. 
> 
> The rest is just Harry's brain analyzing what other people are doing and trying to hit them in ways they don't expect - ways that'll throw them off balance, which is something he also uses as a Beater. Take the bout with Daphne for example: Harry's seen Daphne can parry spells with ease, so when she demands him to take her seriously, he tries hitting her with physical projectiles using the combo of Ferula-Ventus-Duro. And when she starts wising up to that method, he switches to conjurations, which she still manages to counter because she's seen him do them before. In the end, he beat her because he'd built the expectation he'd be turning the bandages into stone again, but that time, he'd turned them into a snake and it caught her off guard.
> 
> So, big thanks to TinCats for asking that because it really made me think about how I'd arrived at that conclusion.

Harry continued to juggle his schedule of learning charisma from Lockhart, helping at the Hospital Wing (though not as much as before), Quidditch Practice, dueling practice, reading ahead of his classes, _and_ his private spell experiments.

He didn't have time to experiment with Potions, but the Twins had reached out to him about his investment and given him some of their new products, most of which (on his request) triggered when flung at a high velocity, although he didn't mention the Prydwen, not wanting to talk about how he'd dropped several hundred Galleons on a custom trunk.

By the Holiday Season, they still had no clue who the Heir of Slytherin was, though there hadn't been any more attacks since Justin. He'd asked Professor Sprout when the curative draught would be ready and she'd told him it wouldn't be for another few months.

His Christmas was going to be lonely compared to the previous year's. Theo, Blaise, Daphne, Hermione, and Neville were all going home for the holidays. Willow and Susan were going home, too, though Harry and Amelia had to keep up their ruse of being at odds due to the flying car stunt.

To make matters worse, Malfoy and his goons (Harry had forgotten their names again) were staying, as was Pansy.

Harry had been so occupied with his schedule that he hadn't had time to try bringing her over to his side. Perhaps he was juggling too many things. Surely, this wasn't normal for a student. Then again, he got Sorted into Slytherin because he didn't _want_ to be normal.

Maybe Quidditch had been a mistake. He'd learned flying maneuvers, yes. It kept him in shape, yes, and he'd noticed his arms bulking up from doing so much Beater practice, but it was easily the most time consuming (and demanding thanks to Flint) of his extracurriculars. He was pretty sure exercising would've had the same benefits for a quarter of the time investment.

Christmas morning finally came. It was strange, being the only occupant of a bedroom made for three people. The Key once again started providing heat without being asked, but he just counted it as a good thing rather than question it. Harry bathed, went up to the Common Room and found (to his surprise) Ginny. He hadn't heard of Fred and George staying. Nor Ronald.

"Happy Christmas," he said, sauntering over to her. "Mind if I join you?"

"Happy Christmas," she greeted back with a small smile before looking at her pile of presents. She'd seated herself in one of the Common Room's many couches. "Go right ahead. Most of my friends had to go home for the holidays."

Harry nodded. He'd been having Tracey keep tabs on Ginny's social circle, and while he couldn't remember any of their names to save his life, he knew she'd made friends, against all odds. The first years looking up to Harry's crew helped, he supposed.

"I didn't know the Weasleys were staying for the Holidays," Harry hazarded as he took the seat.

"They aren't," Ginny answered, a bit of vitriol in her tone. "Mum is being insufferable."

"She let you stay?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not at first. Told her I was going to spend Christmas with Luna. Have you met her? Luna Lovegood."

"Can't say I have," Harry said. She'd gotten better at the subtlety since she'd been Sorted, but her temper still needed some work. He decided to switch topics, noticing her staring at one present in particular.

"Are you afraid it's a trap or-"

"No," she said. "I already checked them. It's just this is Mum's present."

She indicated a box with ugly wrapping.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry told her as he started floating his presents over.

"You've got one, too."

"Merlin, you're right," he said, spotting a similarly-wrapped box with a card from Molly. He hadn't gotten her and Arthur anything, but he could send Arthur something from the muggle world and just say the post was to blame. "Look, we can open them at the same time."

"Yeah, alright."

They opened the boxes at the same time, and Harry saw one of the least fashionable sweaters he'd ever seen. It _looked_ warm and comfy, but Daphne would probably hex him on principle if she saw him wearing it. His sweater was blue and yellow while Ginny's was unsubtly red and gold.

"Merlin's sake, mum," he heard her mutter.

"Is that a Weasley sweater?" Flint, who'd been passing by, asked.

"They both are," Harry drawled, lifting his own.

"You know the rules about being presentable," Flint said with a grimace. "I'm no miracle worker but I can at least fix the color."

He spoke an incantation without asking permission and the sweaters turned into matching green and silver ones.

"Thanks, Flint," Harry said.

"Yes, thank you."

Flint nodded and continued in the direction he'd been going. Harry made a note to try and learn that spell. Changing the Basmu's colors would probably up its fear factor.

Not that he'd managed to find time to work on his to-do list since second year had started.

Harry pushed away his feelings of impotence and lack of control over his schedule. He instead focused on both the present _and_ his presents. He'd done his best, of course, despite the lack of time. It helped that some of the presents he'd sent last year were still applicable.

Theo he'd given a set of comic books, both Marvel and DC. He'd gotten a book called ' _Foreign Magic_ ' by _Negi Springfield,_ which was apparently about spells the author learned from the Asian continent.

For Blaise (who was already thirteen), Harry caved and got him a bunch of Muggle Naughty Magazines, with a note threatening to hex him if he left a mess in the bathroom. Blaise had gifted him more of the hair product from the previous year. He was starting to suspect the Zabinis owned the makers.

Tracey he'd gotten a set of contact lenses spelled to keep out sunlight, and she'd given him a book called _The Sanguine Arts for Fledglings_ by _Sebastian LaCroix._ It was pretty obvious what it was about, but Harry wasn't sure he was ready to dabble in blood magic just yet.

Daphne had given him yet more clothes from Carriage, which was on point for her because he appreciated it. He'd given her a stack of muggle fashion magazines, with a note clarifying it was to give her ideas for their clothing business in case she took it the wrong way.

Hermione's gift to him had been a planner with a small, modified remembrall attached to the front that would remind him if he was forgetting anything he'd written on it. It was thoughtful of her, and made him glad he'd decided to give her a Mokeskin Pouch that served a similar purpose as his Bag of Holding.

He'd gotten Neville a wand holster in Gryffindor colors, with a small note gently reminding him to consider getting a new wand if he wanted to get better with spellwork. Bit blunt, maybe, but Nev was a Gryffindor.

From Willow, he'd gotten a Magizoology book called ' _Creatures of the Sky_ ' written by ' _Winona Falkner,_ ' which seemed to focus on magical birds. She'd seen him cast _Avis,_ after all. It was a nice thought, but conjuring anything magical drained him dry. He'd gotten her a pair of dragonhide Quidditch gloves enchanted with extra fire resistance, so she didn't risk burning her hands whenever she used her unique, wandless fire magic.

Justin was still petrified, of course, but he'd gotten the boy a copy of _Getting Familiar with your Familiar_ so Justin could have some extra protection whenever he woke up. Harry couldn't help but feel partly responsible, even if none of it had been his fault. It felt too much like the Heir had been making a statement: That Harry was powerless and could do nothing to protect his friends.

"Thank you, Harry!" Ginny said from beside him. It shook him out of his dark thoughts. His gift to her had been easy: A wand holster with the initials 'G.W.' written in silver over a green strap.

She'd only managed to get him sweets, but he couldn't exactly fault her. Even if Ginny was starting to think like a Slytherin, she had the spending capacity of a Weasley, and he'd advised her to focus on gifting things to people from her own year.

"You're welcome," he said. "You can thank me by hexing Ronald one of these days."

Ginny blinked. "He hates you, you know."

"I know."

"He thinks you're the reason I'm in Slytherin."

"You're in Slytherin because you don't want to be a bitter little girl coddled by her mother all the time," Harry said. "You would've realized that with or without my staying at the Burrow."

"Well, to be fair," Ginny said, "Before I met you I would've been revolted at the idea of getting Sorted here."

Harry smirked at her. "Well, I never said I had _nothing_ to do with it - just that I'm not the primary reason."

She smirked back.

Fred and George gave him some joke products from Zonko's, which was apparently a joke shop in Hogsmeade. They were amusing, but lacked the bite of the sorts of things he'd use on potential enemies. In turn, he'd gotten them each new matching Quidditch Gloves.

He received another pack of tea from Hagrid, whom he'd actually remembered to buy a present for this year: A pack of nonmagical seeds for his garden.

He'd once again managed to restrain himself from sending the Dursleys anything that might get him in trouble, though he _had_ been tempted to deliver a snake statue with a hardening charm that would wear off shortly before the box arrived at Privet Drive.

He did the usual exchange of sweets with Susan, Hannah, Lisa, and Pansy. It seemed apt for people he knew but weren't really close enough to be his friends. He'd even sent a few to Millicent Bulstrode. He'd figured they'd shared a Potions table for over a year and it was pocket change for a Potter.

He was in the middle of putting his presents away when Tracey sat down next to him, her usual toothy grin on her face. "Happy Christmas, Harry, Ginny."

Harry grinned back "Happy Christmas to you, too. Are those-"

She nodded, pointing at her irises. "Thanks for these. Work like a charm. Now I can play Quidditch without bloody goggles strapped to my head."

"As long as you keep the Bludgers off me," Harry said. He avoided mentioning the probably-illegal tome she'd gifted him in front of Ginny. "Thanks for your present, too."

She just grinned at him, but then he noticed a shift in her posture.

" _Quietus,_ " she spoke, and a screen of silence surrounded them. It wasn't quite as strong as Harry's, but it was close, and Tracey's reflexes more than made up for any weakness in her magic.

"Now, now, Trace," Harry tutted. "We've got a First Year here. Don't you want to take this somewhere more private?"

"Oh, Merlin, are you two gonna snog?" Ginny asked. "At least look for a mistletoe first."

Tracey scoffed. "He wishes. No, I wanted to ask you if you're noticing anything strange. I'm afraid it might just be me."

_Noticing?_ Present tense? Harry's eyes narrowed behind his spectacles as he scanned the Common Room.

Other than the Slytherins being less restrained than usual, he didn't see any-

His eyes rested on Draco Malfoy, who was currently engaged in a game of Wizard's Chess with one of his minions.

That in itself wouldn't have garnered attention, but Malfoy was clearly _losing._ Malfoy's other minion looked like he was about to faint, which was more expression than Harry had ever seen the two display.

With that in mind, Harry scanned the room again. Millicent Bulstrode was watching the chess match, perhaps a little too eagerly, though Harry could've been mistaken. What _did_ catch Harry's eye was Pansy, who was squinting as if she had poor eyesight and no glasses.

"Pansy, Bulstrode, the two beefcakes," Harry muttered.

"Bulstrode?" Tracey repeated. "Didn't notice that one, but I think you're right. The rest haven't touched their presents."

_Nyx,_ Harry communicated. _Do you sense my sister's Fairy nearby?_

_You know it doesn't work that way,_ Nyx answered. _We might both be Familiars now but that doesn't mean we can just magically sense each other's presence._

_I know that,_ Harry answered back. _But do you smell her?_

_Oh. I suppose I could give it a whiff. What's in it for me?_

_All the cake you can eat._ He smirked. He knew it wasn't very much.

Nyx buzzed off under the cover of her Glamour. She returned shortly. 

_You're right. I do smell her,_ Nyx told him. _Though I can't pinpoint her location. She has a distinct burning smell. Strange for a Fairy._

_You realize whose Fairy she is, right?_

_Point taken._

"No, Pansy," he heard Draco say. "I told you. I'm not the Heir. I wish I was, though. I'd set the Monster on Granger."

Harry glared at him for a moment, but kept quiet. He had a justified reason for having a little 'chat' with Draco now. He'd handle him after their guests.

"Your father hasn't said anything?" Pansy pressed.

Draco almost imperceptibly shuddered, which amused Harry, but annoyed him at the same time. The Forgetfulness Potion should've erased any trace of their meeting. 

Draco looked tired, like he'd answered the question before. "No, Pansy. He just said to stay out of the Heir's way and let him do his work. That, and the last time the Chamber opened fifty years ago, a Mu-" his eyes suddenly darted to Harry. "A Muggleborn was killed, and whoever was responsible got expelled."

A him? Harry hummed. That was new information, at least. Then again, maybe Draco was just remembering fragments of their interaction when he was playing the role of the Heir.

"Willow," Harry said, looking at Pansy. "Not sure who Bulstrode is, but Draco's muscle men are acting suspiciously like Neville and Ronald, don't you think?"

"Ron?" Ginny hissed, looking pale. Strange. He'd never known Ginny to be afraid of her older brother. "He's supposed to be home for the Holidays."

"Indeed," Harry said. "So are my sister and Neville. Tracey, dear, I _do_ believe we've got intruders in our midst. It's no Glamour, so I can only presume it's Polyjuice Potion."

"What should we do with them, Harry?" Tracey mused. "Sic the whole Common Room on them?"

Harry considered, but shook his head. 'Pansy' was looking at him with barely-concealed apprehension. Twilight Sparkle must've warned Willow that Nyx had sniffed her out. He could hardly fault her for the plan. He'd done a little role-playing to find out what Malfoy knew, too. He could, however, fault her for not trusting him. Hadn't he already told her Draco knew nothing, even though his father probably did? She'd lied to him, too. Her, and Neville, and - well, he didn't really care about Ronald.

"No," Harry said. "We'll deal with this privately, I think. Care to join me?"

"Of course," Tracey answered, looking like Christmas had come twice in one day.

"I'll come with you," Ginny said. "Even the odds a bit."

Harry shot her a glance. "Tracey and I are more than capable of handling them."

It was true, too. There might've been four of them but unless his guesses as to their identities were way off, the only real threats were Willow and 'Bulstrode.' Ronald's wand was broken and Neville wouldn't raise his wand against Harry without great reason. Bulstrode was an unknown quantity.

"But I suppose you can help, if you really want to," Harry added. "There might be Dueling involved."

The silent question he posed was: How good are you at Dueling?

"I've just gone to the one meeting, but _you_ taught me a few things over summer," Ginny admitted. Her brow furrowed. "Why do I get the feeling you've gotten more practice in than just that?"

Harry considered her, then nodded. "Good. You're perceptive, but you need to phrase your words better. One wouldn't want to sound like they're accusing people of things that aren't in line with school rules."

"Thanks. I'll work on it."

He offered her a thin smile. She was shaping up to be a fine Slytherin, especially after the Prefects had provided her more suitable robes and shoes. He supposed having someone in the year below him in his confidence wouldn't be a bad thing. "Fine, you can come, but only if you swear not to tell anyone what you're about to witness."

Ginny smirked. "Done."

His smile turned cold. "I'm serious, Ginny. You breathe a word of what you see to anyone else and the rest of your time until I leave Hogwarts is going to be miserable."

"I _am_ serious, Harry," she answered. "I know as well as you that no one's infiltrated our Common Room in centuries. This is bigger than one of Fred and George's pranks."

"We'll be under Glamour so they won't see us," Harry said. He saw Ginny's eyes widen but continued, "I suspect Willow will do something similar, but unfortunately for her, snakes have a very strong sense of smell."

They watched as Bulstrode, the beefcakes, and Pansy all left at around the same time. Harry surmised their Polyjuice was starting to run out. "It's showtime," he whispered and the three of them stalked out of the Common Room. They passed through the false wall just in time to see the four intruders vanish from sight beneath what he suspected was Willow's Invisibility Cloak.

" _Serpsensortia,_ " Harry whispered, and a small black snake with a bright orange ring around its neck materialized on the ground. It probably could've fit in his hands if it coiled around itself.

" _Track the intruderssss,_ " Harry hissed.

" _Yessss, Ssspeaker._ "

He shot Ginny a glance. She looked pale, but only nodded. Good. He'd been afraid he'd need to give her a leftover dose of the Forgetfulness Potion he'd brewed for Draco.

_Nyx, stay as far back from us as you can without breaking the Glamour,_ Harry ordered. _I don't want Willow's Fairy noticing you._

_Already on it, Harry._

They followed the little snake as it slithered its way up the castle, which was thankfully largely-abandoned during the Holidays. It led them up the stairs and onto the second floor, finally stopping as they came upon a flooded hallway outside the girls' lavatory.

" _Trail endsss here,_ " the snake hissed. " _Water masssking ssscent._ "

" _Are you venomousss?_ " Harry asked.

" _Enough for food,_ " it answered. Not enough for humans, then.

" _Engorgio,_ " Harry incanted, and the snake swelled to the size of a normal snake. " _Conssstrict, but do not kill._ "

" _Yesss, Ssspeaker._ "

He'd have to be careful to keep to mental commands inside. He didn't want the Gryffindors knowing he was a Parselmouth.

"It's Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Tracey breathed.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Moaning Myrtle," Tracey repeated. "She's a ghost. Bloody annoying, if you couldn't tell from the nickname. I think she was a student here."

Huh. He'd have to talk to this Myrtle after his sister had been dealt with. Maybe she could tell him something about what Hogwarts was like before Dumbledore.

He cast _Quietus_ on the wet floor so the Gryffindors wouldn't hear the splashes, but it turned out to be unnecessary, because they were talking so loudly they never would've heard the Slytherins.

"This was a stupid plan!" Hermione's voice said from one of the bathroom stalls.

"Oh, shut up, Hermione!" Ronald's voice answered. "How was _I_ s'posed to know Malfoy didn't know anything?"

"Because _Harry_ already told me that," Willow said.

"Well, you clearly didn't believe him either, since you came along," Ronald said. His stall door opened. "Besides, Will, your brother is-"

" _Immobulus!_ " Harry and Tracey spoke at the same time. Ron's face was frozen in shock, quite literally.

Willow barged out of her own stall, wand raised. Her gold-plated lighter gleamed in her other hand. Her face showed recognition, then apprehension, and finally outrage.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " she incanted, but before Harry could evade, Tracey was in front of him, swiping the spell out of the air with her wand. Willow was good, but she wasn't Daphne. Heck, she wasn't even Theo or Tracey, not after all the practice they'd done.

" _Ferula._ " Thick bandages wrapped around his sister, snapping her arms in place so she couldn't cast.

"What the hell, Harry?" Hermione fumed as she stepped out of her own stall and saw Ronald immobilized and Willow similarly disabled.

"I should be asking you the same thing," Harry said. "I'm almost certain you told me you three were going home for the Holidays. It _is_ Neville in that last stall, right?"

Neville poked his head out of his stall. "Er, yeah, hi, Harry. Just let me finish changing."

Harry nodded. "Take your time. You don't have to worry about your Polyjuice running out anymore."

"How did you-" Hermione started.

"Please. You didn't think you were the only ones who thought to squeeze information out of Malfoy by pretending to be someone else, did you?" Harry asked. "Oh, don't give me that look, Hermione. I told you last year: My plots operate a few levels higher than yours."

"Why didn't you believe me?" he asked, pointing the question at Willow. "I told you I pumped Malfoy dry. Did you really have to breach the Slytherin Common Room's security for the first time in centuries?"

Willow bit her lip, looking away from his piercing green eyes. "You wouldn't tell me how you found out. Ron said you were probably just protecting Malfoy, and, well, everyone was saying it's me. I'm sorry, Harry."

"I didn't tell you for precisely the same reason you lot won't be advertising you brewed Polyjuice Potion to sneak into Slytherin: because I don't want either of us to get expelled."

Willow flinched.

"Frankly, I'm appalled any of you think _I_ would protect _Malfoy,_ " Harry hissed. "I'm going to be having a chat with him after this myself, in fact, to impress upon him how stupid he was for getting outsmarted by a bunch of Gryffindors."

The downside of _Immobulus_ compared to the Full Body-Bind Curse was that a magical subject (they possessed a small amount of resistance) could still speak. It was useful for interrogation, but with Weasley, it truly _was_ a downside. 

"Yeah?" Ronald asked. "What're you gonna do? Give him a slap on the wrist? Hell, you're probably the Heir. You sent the Monster after Justin to throw Dumbledore off."

Harry almost lost his composure right there. He snapped his fingers (mostly for effect) and the Key shot out of his robes and towards Ronald, stopping a few inches short of his throat.

"I am capable of much more than a slap on the wrist, _Donald,_ " Harry said through gritted teeth. "And if your prejudiced arse ever suggests I would seriously harm one of my friends again, I will bury you somewhere the Aurors can never find you and your mother is going to cry." 

He shot Ginny (who was still Glamoured) a glance, but her expression was even. She knew her brother had crossed a line.

He snapped his fingers again and the Key whizzed back into this robes, resting against his chest.

"Now, you will all go back to your Common Room, and think really, _really_ hard before you do anything stupid like this again," Harry hissed, though he suspected they'd do at least two more stupid things before the year ended. Merlin save him.

"Could you get us out of these?" Willow asked, her arms still held in place by the bandages.

Harry hoisted himself up to sit on the row of sinks in the middle of the room. "Apologies, sister, but as you've displayed, you clearly have no faith in my abilities. Afraid you'll have to sort this out yourselves."

He smirked at them but kept his wand unholstered in case he needed to block anything. Hermione rolled her eyes and began the process of dispelling the _Immobulus_ and the _Ferula._

"Wish I had a camera," Tracey quipped as she leaned against the sink beside his.

"Now, now, Tracey," Harry said. "You shouldn't take photos of people in bathrooms."

It was after the Gryffindors departed the bathroom when Ginny stepped out of the shadows. The Glamour had kept her hidden the entire time. "Bloody hell, Harry. That was - you were brilliant."

"She's right, Harry," Tracey chimed in. "You didn't need our help at all."

"Regardless, thanks for the assist. I wasn't sure who Bulstrode was," he said, not denying any of it. "Polyjuice is difficult to brew. I'm glad it was just Hermione. Your reflexes really _are_ something else."

Translation: He'd been expecting the mystery student to be an upper year Gryffindor.

It was why he'd enlarged the snake, after all. A Glamoured snake would even the odds against a witch or wizard who dueled on a higher level.

"Want me to nibble on your neck a bit?" Tracey asked, fangs fully in display.

Harry snorted. "Part-vampires can't pass the condition on. Unless the books got that wrong?"

Tracey shook her head. "No, I'm just thirsty."

Harry shook his head.

_Are they really gone?_ he asked Nyx. She'd been hanging out outside.

_Yes, Harry. They went back down._

_Good to know. Thanks._

"So, you said the ghost was named 'Myrtle?'" Harry asked.

"Don't you think you were a bit harsh?" Tracey asked.

Harry blinked at her. She'd seemed on board with it earlier, why was - Oh. Right. Slytherin Solidarity.

"I've been looking out for her all year," Harry said. "Been trying to keep the whole school from turning on her, and then she pulls a stunt like this."

"Well, she _is_ under a lot of pressure," Tracey offered. "She probably thinks the school expects her to solve the problem somehow."

"She's probably right," he said with no humor. Dumbledore probably expected his little champion to do something about the Monster. "Still, she's been acting rash ever since-"

He thought back. How long had Willow been acting daft?

The Polyjuice, yes, but before that, she'd managed to get caught near the sight of the attacks every time, and then there was the incident at the Dueling Club where she accidentally revealed she was a Parselmouth.

No, it had been earlier than that. The time she'd taken off in the Weasleys' flying car to save him from the Dursleys despite Amelia's protests.

In fact, she'd been acting daft ever since-

"Quirrell-mort," Harry breathed. "She's been acting like an idiot since she killed Quirrell."

"She did what?" Ginny asked.

Harry gave her a simplified version of the events that unfolded in the third-floor corridor. 

"Merlin," Ginny breathed. "She probably thinks she needs to make up for screwing up last year."

Harry nodded. It appalled him that Ginny, who hadn't been around during said school year, managed to piece together what he hadn't for so long. How hadn't he seen it until now? Well, he supposed he'd been too occupied with his experiments and building alliances. And Quidditch, and Lockhart, and the Monster, and- 

"I need to talk to her before someone dies," Harry said.

"I wish someone talked to me before _I_ died," a voice called out from above.

Harry startled, his wand raised in defense - only to find the spectacled ghost of a student staring down at him.

"Myrtle?" Harry asked, uncertain.

Tracey snickered. "You should've seen the look on your face."

Harry gave her an unamused look.

"Hello," the ghost said coyly, taking in Harry's appearance. "I don't think we've met."

"Harry," he said. "Harry Potter. I'd shake your hand, but-"

The ghost girl giggled. "Oh, believe you me, if I had a body I'd do more than just-"

Tracey cleared her throat. 

Harr nodded his thanks. "Myrtle, you've been around for a while, right?"

"Don't you know it's not nice to guess at a girl's age?" she snapped.

"I didn't mean it like that," Harry said. "I just meant you probably know what Hogwarts was like before Dumbledore took over."

She nodded, a dreamy look in her eyes. "Oh, yes. I remember it like it was yesterday. Dumbledore was already here, you know, but as a professor. Headmaster Dippet was in charge."

"Dippet?" Harry echoed. He'd read that name in ' _Hogwarts: A History._ ' Dippet had been the Headmaster just before Dumbledore, which meant - "Myrtle, wait, you were in Hogwarts fifty years ago?"

"Don't you dare call me old," Myrtle moaned.

Tracey's eyes lit up in recognition. "Wait, are you saying-"

"Myrtle was the Heir of Slytherin's first and only murder victim," Harry finished for her.

Ginny looked very pale indeed.

"Then that means you saw it," Harry said. "Slytherin's Monster. Myrtle, how did you die? If you don't mind my asking."

Myrtle's expression was wisftful. "I was crying, because Olive Hornby teased me about my glasses." She pointed at the farthest stall. "In that one, right there. I heard a voice talking in something I didn't understand."

"A foreign language?" Harry asked. He had no idea what Parseltongue sounded like to non-speakers, but he was pretty sure she'd just heard the Heir speaking to the Snake Monster.

"I can't really remember," she said. "But I did recognize a boy's voice, so I stepped out of my stall to tell him to go use his own bathroom."

She stopped, as if that was everything. It prompted Harry to ask, "And then?"

"And then I died."

"Instantly? No magic? No attack?" Harry questioned.

Myrtle shook her translucent head. "I just remember saying a great big pair of horrible eyes, and then I was a ghost."

A Snake Monster that could kill on sight. The information made it no less terrible, but at least they could narrow it down. Maybe he'd pick Willow's brain again after he talked to her.

"But wait," Tracey said. "If it kills instantly, why haven't there been any deaths?"

"I dunno," Harry admitted. They needed more information on how the Monster actually killed people. Just knowing it could do it instantly wasn't enough. What? Did it have a built-in Killing Curse projector or something? "Myrtle, do you know who got expelled for killing you?"

Myrtle nodded. "He works here. I've visited him one or twice."

Harry couldn't stop his eyes from widening. The person who opened the chamber was back in Hogwarts and the faculty knew about it? "What do you mean you visited him? For revenge?"

"No. To give him my sympathies," Myrtle said. "He didn't do it."

"Hang on," Harry said. "How do you _know_ it wasn't him?"

"He was a Gryffindor," Myrtle said. "And I've heard him talk. It was very different from the boy who was here when I died."

"And you told them this?" Harry asked.

"Of course I did. What do you think I am? An idiot? I was in Ravenclaw, you know."

There was a cold anger inside Harry now. "Who was it, Myrtle? Who'd they set up to take the blame?"

"Rubeus Hagrid."

Ginny looked shaken as they exited Myrtle's bathroom. Harry couldn't blame her. She probably hadn't known exactly how much she'd learn by tagging along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt really motivated, hence the second update. Almost regretted it. This is probably the longest chapter in Year 2. Next few are about half this length.


	15. Back From the Holidays

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said as he rose from the chair in Lockhart's room. He'd spent the first afternoon back from Holidays chatting the Defense Professor up about how to get people to do what he wanted them to without threats involved.

Of course, he'd already threatened Malfoy and crew and reminded them that if anyone learned of the Polyjuice episode, it was their names on the line for being duped. The residual fear from his previous "chat" with Draco had come in handy after all.

"No problem at all, Harry," Lockhart said in his usual manner. "By the way, how _are_ your pursuits going?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, Sir?"

"Oh, it's just I've been giving you advice for months," Lockhart said. "Surely you've managed to woo the girl by now?"

Oh. Harry schooled his face to look embarrassed. "Er, no, Sir. I haven't got anyone particular in mind just yet. I'm just preparing for the future. I doubt the next Defense Professor would be able to help me as much as you. Besides, we can't even go to Hogsmeade until third year."

"Tut, tut, Harry, you're wasting your youth," Lockhart said. "Valentines' Day is coming soon, you know."

"I'll give it some thought," Harry lied. He had other things to worry about.

* * *

"Hermione, Neville, a word?" Harry said in the Dungeon corridor after their Double Potions session with Gryffindor.

"Harry, if this is about the - the thing in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, I-" Hermione began.

"Bloody hell, that sounds dirty," Tracey said with a smirk. "I'll see you later, Harry, Hermione, Neville."

Harry shook his head at Tracey. "It _is_ about that. See you, Tracey."

"Well, I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I know we lied to you, and we didn't trust you, and-"

Harry raised a placative hand. "And I realize now I gave you reason to doubt me."

Whatever Hermione was expecting him to say, that clearly hadn't been it. Her mouth fell open a little.

"Blimey," Neville said. "Are you sure you're Harry? Not someone using Polyjuice?"

Harry grinned, but otherwise ignored him. "I've been keeping things from you."

Hermione suddenly looked wary. "Like what, Harry?"

He made a show of looking around if anyone was watching, though of course he'd already done that before opening his mouth. "Not here. I've got a secret chamber-"

He stopped when he saw the look on Neville's face.

"Poor choice of words," Harry said. "It's just a hidden room we use for private reading and spell practice."

"We?" Hermioned asked.

"Theo, Blaise, Daphne, Tracey, and Justin, although Justin didn't really get to use it much before, well," he trailed off.

"Lemme get this straight," Neville started. "You've got a private study group _within_ our private study group?"

"I guess," Harry said. "We don't really study for lessons in there."

He pointedly didn't mention what they actually _did_ do in there. "It should go without saying, but let me make it clear: what I'm about to show you is incredibly private. I'm only showing you because I've seen what happens when I hide things from my friends."

A practiced, wistful smile on his face, like he'd decided to turn over a new leaf after a life of debauchery. All part of what Lockhart had taught him.

"Of course, Harry," Hermione said. "Right, Neville?"

"I won't say a word," Neville added.

"Thank you."

He led them up to the third floor where the Lakescape Room was, showed them how to open it, and ushered them inside.

" _How_ long have you had this?" Neville asked, taking in the wide space.

Harry had three couches (none of which matched, due to how he'd gotten them from different places), a low table, a high table, and a spill-resistant table for potions experimentation in the corner (not that he had the time for it). 

"About a year, come to think of it," Harry said. "Fred and George showed me, though they haven't dropped in since then."

"This is brilliant, though," Neville said. "Guessing you use it for Dueling Practice?"

Harry smirked. "How'd you guess?"

"You took Ron and Willow like it was nothing," Neville said flatly.

"Hey, I had help," Harry deflected. "A half-vampire skews the odds in my favor."

"That Disarming Charm wasn't even going to hit you," Hermione chimed in. "You'd already dodged out of the way when she blocked it."

Harry just grinned at her.

"So is that all you haven't been telling us?" Hermione questioned.

"More or less," Harry said. "I _have_ been experimenting with spells in here, too, but I can't tell you how exactly, because neither of you are Occlumens."

Hermione sounded alarmed. "You think someone would use _Legilimens_ on a student?"

"I _know_ so," Harry said. "I felt Dumbledore's probe brush my mind during first year."

"He cast it on you?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "I heard no incantation, but I definitely felt it, _and_ he commented on my Occlumency."

"Gran always did say Dumbledore was a master Legilimens," Neville said.

"But yeah, this is where we've been going after Study Group," Harry explained. "You're free to join us, if you'd like. I know you were both interested in the Dueling Club."

"Y-you think I could get better at it?" Neville asked.

Harry pointedly glanced at Neville's wand arm. "You'd get better if you listened to my last piece of advice."

"Well, I wanna see how far I can go like this," Neville said stubbornly. " _Then_ I'll consider it."

Harry nodded. "And you, Hermione? I know it's not strictly within the rules to practice spells outside class, but Dueling's a whole different thing from just knowing the spells."

"Do you think they'd have books on Dueling in the library?" Hermione asked.

Harry almost laughed but managed to just smile. "Wouldn't hurt to look."

"I'm in," Neville said.

"Me too," Hermione added.

Harry smiled at them. It was good to have his friends back.

* * *

The coffee was good, Harry admitted. He was used to the standard blend the Hogwarts House-Elves served during breakfast, which wasn't bad, but it was likely something cheap and mass-produced.

This cup had a stronger, citrusy flavor that hit the spot. He shouldn't have expected any less from the Headmaster's personal stores, really. It figured Dumbledore hoarded the good stuff.

"So, Albus," Harry began after taking another sip. " _Did_ Hagrid open the Chamber fifty years ago?"

He was seated across frin the Headmaster, with his desk between them. The desk sported a fine selection of pastries on top of it along with three cups of coffee: His, the Headmaster's, and Willow's.

He'd come to her with what he'd learned about the Chamber in an effort to rebuild trust, and also because he knew she'd find out eventually with potentially a lot of collateral damage if she figured it out on her own.

"Hagrid has my full confidence," Dumbledore answered. "I knew it wasn't him, but I had no evidence."

"You had the testimony of the actual murder victim," Harry said flatly.

"Ghosts are not the people they used to be, Harry," Dumbledore answered sagely. "Not exactly. They are but echoes of who they once were, and Myrtle was in shock over dying at the time. No, I'm afraid her testimony wasn't admissible as evidence."

Harry glanced at Willow. She looked like she'd just swallowed a lemon. Clearly the idea of Hagrid being punished for something he hadn't actually done didn't sit well with her. Good.

"So, do you know who _did_ open the Chamber?" Harry asked.

"I suspected it to be Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said, upon seeing Willow and Harry's faces, he added, "But you must understand, Harry, Willow. He was but a bright student at the time. Not yet the Dark Lord who would terrorize Britain decades later."

"This was all after you defeated Grindelwald, yes?" Harry clarified.

Dumbledore nodded. "It was only because of that fact that I managed to appeal for Hagrid's sentence to go from a sentence in Azkaban to expulsion."

Harry studied the man carefully. Dumbledore had known Hagrid was innocent, probably had the political pull to do more than just that, and _then_ kept him around in Hogwarts as his loyal minion. It was a level of cunning beyond even most _Slytherins_ , and yet, if it was Dumbledore, it seemed believable.

"Headmaster," Willow began. "Does that mean whoever's behind the attacks now is-"

"Lord Voldemort?" Dumbledore spoke. "It is indeed within the realm of possibility."

"I kind of doubt it," Harry said.

Willow looked at him. "What do you mean, Harry?"

"Voldemort was here last year because he wanted the Stone," Harry explained. He didn't mention he was almost sure the Stone was still intact elsewhere. "See, the Stone was a way for him to come back into power: A means to an end. Do you see the same with the attacks on Muggle-borns?"

"Maybe there's some Dark Ritual that requires a sacrifice of Muggle-borns?" Willow ventured.

"If there were, he'd be back by now, don't you think?" Harry said. "Not to mention, why do it _here?_ I know Hogwarts isn't _entirely_ safe - no offense, Albus - but it's probably one of the hardest places to pull something like that off. Actually, Albus, can I double check? Was Voldemort smart?"

"Deviously cunning," Dumbledore said.

"Exactly. Given all we know about him _and_ how the attacks have been going, I'm almost certain it can't be him," Harry concluded.

"You might be right, Harry," Dumbledore conceded. "This has a cruder touch to it. Perhaps one of his loyalists?"

"Maybe." Harry didn't know much about the individual Death Eaters. Only that he didn't want to get on their bad sides if their children were any indication of their capabilities. A Theo who'd realized his true potential was not an enemy he wanted to fight, at least not on fair terms.

"What about the Monster?" Willow asked. "Can you tell us what it is, Professor?"

"I'm afraid not, Willow," Dumbledore answered. "Slytherin's Monster is among the Darkest of creatures."

Harry was about to ask if that meant Dumbledore _did_ know what it was when suddenly the stairway leading up to the Headmaster's Office shifted, and Professor McGonagall stepped through, looking distressed. She stopped a moment when she saw the Potter Twins, but remembered herself. 

"There's been another attack," McGonagall said, directing the statement at Dumbledore.

The lines of Dumbledore's face were hard. "Who was it? Which Muggleborn has been victimized by the Heir?"

"They weren't Muggleborns at all," McGonagall said. 

A chill gripped Harry's heart. He thought of Neville, Theo, Blaise, Daphne, Tracey, even Ginny, who did the Heir-

"It was Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. They've both been petrified."

Dumbledore looked as surprised as Harry had ever seen him. "Are you certain?"

McGonagall nodded. "Severus and I brought their bodies to the Hospital Wing ourselves. Albus, this is-"

"I know. I'm afraid this might be the end of Hogwarts. Lucius will not rest until his son is avenged."

"That makes no sense," Harry thought out loud.

"What doesn't?" McGonagall asked. "And why are you here in the first place, Mister and Miss Potter?"

"We had questions for the Headmaster," Harry said. "And I mean Draco getting petrified makes no sense."

"Harry?" Dumbledore began. "Do you know something?"

"The Heir of Slytherin was likely Lucius' plot in the first place," Harry said. "Let me finish, Albus. I knew he _had_ one, but I had no solid evidence."

He hoped Dumbledore realized how much that sounded like his own sad excuse for letting Hagrid get expelled.

He went on. "I've overheard Draco mentioning Lucius might have some idea who was opening the Chamber, but wouldn't trust his son with the information."

"I don't doubt that Lucius would be willing to put his son in harm's way to achieve his goals," Dumbledore countered.

"Maybe." Harry hadn't thought of that, somehow. It was just that - the _way_ Draco talked about his Father, Harry could tell Lucius _doted_ on his one and only son. It just didn't seem to fit. "Or maybe he's lost control of his plan. Frankly, I'm not sure which is worse."

"Oh no," Willow said, realization dawning on her. "Everyone's going to think this was me."

"I wouldn't worry about that, sis," Harry drawled. "We were here the whole time. If anything, we're two of the few people in school who couldn't have done it."

Of course, that still beggared the question: Who among Draco's (admittedly many) enemies had the ability to set the Monster of Slytherin on him? And why now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you confused yet?
> 
> Will be posting two updates in rapid succession next because the chapters are related.


	16. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double Update.

Students were no longer allowed to wander the halls without at least one Professor escorting them, though Harry couldn't help but wonder how much that would actually help. 

Certainly, no Professor had been attacked yet, but that didn't mean they'd be any better fending off Salazar's Monster than a student. The increased security measure put a halt to the Study Group sessions on the second floor, though Harry still managed to slip his friends into the Lakescape Room whenever they wanted by using Nyx's Glamour and _Serpensortia_ to send tiny snakes out to scout ahead.

"I can't believe they went after Malfoy and Pansy," Theo said when they were safely inside the Lakescape Room. Funnily enough, it was one of the few safe havens in the Castle, given that Slytherin's Monster probably didn't have a pinky finger to open it with.

"You're sure it's not you, Harry?" Blaise asked, only half-joking.

Only Theo and Blaise were with him, since there was a limit to how much Nyx could make a corridor appear empty, and the more people in the party, the harder it became.

"Only way it could be me is if I was sleep-walking and sending the Monster out at night," Harry said. "All the attacks happen before curfew."

"They've got to be trying to pin it on you or Willow, though, right?" Theo said. "I can't see any other reason the Monster would go after those two."

"Unless the Heir's lost control," Harry reminded him. "Though that's unlikely, too. If the Heir no longer controls the Monster, why isn't it going on a rampage?"

"And we still don't even know what it is?" Blaise asked, sounding tired.

"It's a Snake or something that understands Parseltongue, at least," Harry said. "It has the ability to petrify or kill wizards and witches in an instant, _and_ it can get around without being detected."

He thought immediately of Medusa from Greek Myth, but he couldn't imagine how a Gorgon would get around unseen.

"But Dumbledore knows?" Theo asked.

"He at least has an idea," Harry answered. "But he wouldn't share."

"Have you asked Hagrid?" Blaise questioned. "That's how you found out about the Three-Headed Dog last year."

"It wouldn't hurt to try, I suppose. Not entirely sure Hagrid will disclose anything to three Slytherins. Might have to bring my sister."

"In that case," Blaise said with a smirk. "You and Theo should go with your sister."

Harry smirked back. "Actually, I think _you_ should come with me. Willow was raised by the Bones, remember? No offense, Theo."

"None taken," Theo said. "But if you only get one person to watch your back, don't you think you could do better than Blaise?"

Blaise huffed. "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You're not exactly the best duelist in the world," Theo pointed out.

Harry considered, then nodded. "Sorry, Blaise, I'm with him on this one."

"So who _are_ you going to bring?" Theo asked.

* * *

"This is such a bad idea," Neville said as the five of them walked towards Hagrid's Hu- _Shack_ under the cover of both Nyx and Twilight Sparkle's Glamours. They were taking the path he and Willow had taken the previous year.

"It'll be fine, Neville," Willow assured him. "We're just going to talk to Hagrid."

"Yeah, but why're _they_ here?" Ronald asked, gesturing distastefully at Harry and Tracey. He knew Ronald had been blaming him for Ginny's Sorting into Slytherin.

"Because it was _my_ idea, Donald," Harry drawled. "Now shut your mouth. The Glamour doesn't cut off sound."

"I don't take orders from you," Ronald protested. Harry's wand hand itched.

"Ron, stuff it," Willow said, and that was the end of that, because apparently he did take orders from Willow.

"So the rabid duck _can_ be trained," Tracey whispered.

Harry managed to contain himself to a smirk.

Willow rapped her fist against Hagrid's door, and found herself face-to-face with a leveled crossbow. Harry sank his forehead into his hands. Did Hagrid really think Slytherin's Monster would _knock_?

"Oh," Hagrid said as he recognized her. "Sorry bou' tha'. What're you doin' here? Yer suppos' ter be in yer dorms."

There was a moment of tense silence during which Harry could've come up with two or three lines that would've gotten them through the door. Why did he think to let the Gryffindors take point? He could've done the talking while they assured Hagrid he wasn't being evil.

"We were worried about you," Neville said, to Harry's surprise. Maybe the Gryffindor was picking up a few things.

"Oh, well, I'm doin' fine," Hagrid said.

They stared at him for a few more moments.

He heaved a great sigh. "Alrigh', come in, come in."

The five of them managed to squeeze into the shack. Willow lit the fire since Hagrid had insisted on getting them some tea, and Harry wasn't about to argue. He rather liked Hagrid's tea.

"Any chance you make your own coffee, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Er, no, coffee's a bi' hard ter make in me hut," Hagrid answered. "I usually jus' head over ter the kitchen if I need a cup, bu' I prefer tea meself."

When they were all situated, Willow opened up the topic they all came for. "Hagrid," she said softly. "I know this is probably unpleasant for you, but what can you tell us about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry wanted to scream as Hagrid's body turned tense. "Nuthin'. I had nuthin' ter do with it."

Ronald opened his mouth. "But you got exp-"

" _Ferula,_ " Harry whispered under his breath, and a bandage appeared to gag Ronald.

"We know _you_ didn't do it, Hagrid," Tracey said. "You were framed."

"I- who are ye again?" Hagrid asked, seeming to notice Tracey for the first time.

"Tracey Davis," she answered, red eyes gleaming. "I'm a half-blood half-breed."

"Oh, tha' mus' be tough," Hagrid said, his body softening once more. "I'm der same."

Ronald mumbled something through the gag that sounded a bit like "Hagrid is half-giant?" and Harry was tempted to turn the bandages to stone.

But since Ronald was otherwise mute, Harry grinned, content to watch Tracey work while he sipped tea. It seemed she'd either gotten stronger or she'd been holding back with her fellow Slytherins.

"Isn't it awful they pinned the crime on you?" Tracey drawled. "Who was it, Hagrid? Who pointed Dippet to you?"

"It was Tom Riddle," Hagrid answered, his eyes glazing over somewhat. "Head Boy of me year. Was in Slytherin."

"How'd they blame you?"

"I had a pet at der time," Hagrid said. A small smile appearing on his face as his eyes fully glazed over. "Named 'im Aragog. Riddle said he was Slytherin's Monster, bu' Aragog'd never hurt anyone!"

"Didn't Myrtle's Ghost say you were innocent?" Tracey pressed.

"She did, but Ministry needed someone ter blame it on," Hagrid said. "She visited me before, yer know? Said she was sorry they snapped me wand instead o' the real killer's."

"So, Hagrid, do you know what the Monster actually is?" Tracey asked.

"Y-y- I can't tell yer," Hagrid said with some resistance.

Harry's brow furrowed. Hagrid clearly wasn't an Occlumens since Tracey had been pumping him for information with no trouble, so why now?

"Why not?" Tracey asked.

"Promised." Hagrid gasped. "Dumbledore."

She looked to Harry for permission to continue. He shook his head. They'd clearly hit a wall, and he didn't want to break through it with force. Not in front of three Gryffindors who all considered Hagrid a friend. They were already looking at Tracey and him with some revulsion.

Hagrid blinked. "I- what did I-"

"Do you think it's resistant to magic?" Harry asked, partly to distract Hagrid from Tracey.

"Er, come again?"

"The Monster," Harry pressed. "You're an expert on magical creatures. Do you think the Monster would be resistant to spells?"

"Oh, er, I dunno if I'd call meself an expert, Harry." Hagrid grinned, scratching his head. "I suppose it would be. Most Magical Creatures hav' some kinda resistance, 'specially the mos' dangerous ones. S'why Trolls an' such are a problem fer most folk."

Harry nodded, having firsthand experience with a Troll. "Say, Hagrid, would _you_ be able to, oh, I dunno, beat a Troll with your bare hands?"

Hagrid laughed. "Maybe if it was a smaller one, but Trolls're seriously strong. Makes up fer bein' stupid."

"So, if say, a Dragon bumped its head into a wall really hard, it'd get knocked out, same as any other creature?"

"Er, not a Dragon Expert, but ye, I'd think so. Why do ye ask?"

Harry thought of the Bludgers he'd had Dobby remove the safety on. "Oh, I just wanted to know my chances of surviving if I ran into it."

Hagrid looked like he was about to say something else when a knock came on the door. "Who could tha' be?"

_Nyx, who is it?_ Harry asked. She darted out the window before coming back.

_Headmaster, with a man I don't know. The other is Draco's father._

"Everyone, hide," Harry said in a tone that brooked no argument, not even from Ronald.

The Gryffindors and Tracey managed to squeeze under Willow's Invisibility Cloak while Harry plopped himself down in an unoccupied corner and hoped to the gods that Nyx's Glamour would hold.

Hagrid finally opened the door, and Albus Dumbledore stepped into the room, his eyes seeming to go through the hiding places of the five students before he finally winked at Willow. "Good evening, Rubeus."

"Er, Professor Dumbledore, sir, what're ye-"

"Good evening, Hagrid," a balding, gray-haired man said as he followed Dumbledore in, though there was nothing 'good' about how he carried himself.

"Minister Fudge!" Hagrid suddenly looked at his shack as if realizing for the first time how unkempt it was.

Harry studied the Minister of Magic. So _this_ was the man who held political power in Wizarding Britain. He didn't look like much of a wizard, but looks could be deceiving.

The third figure who walked in had platinum blond hair that flowed down his shoulders, looking every bit as sinister as the day Harry had met him in Diagon Alley, though there was a barely-restrained fury to him now.

"You," Hagrid fumed. "Get out of my house!"

Lucius' restraint wavered. "You dare take that tone with me after you attacked my son?"

Hagrid's mouth gaped open, looking first at Lucius, then Fudge, then Dumbledore. "Professor Dumbledore, sir, I didn't do it. You know that!"

"I'm afraid your past record is against you, Hagrid," Fudge said. "Three Muggle-borns and two Pure-bloods have been attacked. The Ministry _has_ to act!"

Dumbledore's eyes were full of sorrow. "I'm sorry, Hagrid."

"Where're you takin' me?" Hagrid asked, face growing pale. "Not _Azkaban?_ "

"It's for the safety of everyone, Hagrid," Fudge said. "Rest assured, if another person is found responsible, we'll release you immediately. I'm sure Dumbledore can handle things while you're gone."

Hagrid did not look assured.

"Actually, he won't," Lucius Malfoy said. Harry thought his expression would be more snide if his only son and heir hadn't been petrified. He pulled out a roll of parchment and held it out to Fudge.

"What's this?" Fudge asked.

"It's the signature of all twelve members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors asking for the suspension of Albus Dumbledore."

Hagrid fumed. "And how many o' those did you have to blackmail into signing?"

Harry bet at least a few. He didn't like Dumbledore running the school, especially after how he'd orchestrated Willow's defeating Quirrell-mort the previous year, but the man had his uses.

"You can't suspend 'im!" Hagrid shouted. "The Muggleborns won't stand a chance! There'll be killin's next!"

"Now, now, Rubeus," Dumbledore said sagely. "I must answer to the Board. I will say that I will only truly have left the school only when none here remain loyal to me."

He directed his gaze to Willow, whom he could obviously see. "And if anybody at Hogwarts needs help, it will always be available to those who ask for it."

"What are you talking about?" Lucius asked.

Hagrid, surprisingly, seemed to catch on, because he did his own version. "Well, I sure hope somebody feeds Fang while I'm gone," he said. "An' if anybody wants to know der truth, they should follow the spiders. Yep, that's what they should do."

They waited until all four men had left before Willow's group took off the Invisibility Cloak and Nyx disabled the Glamour on Harry.

"He suspended Dumbledore!" Ronald raved. He'd managed to get the bandage off at some point. Harry really should have turned it to stone. "That lunatic!"

"He's lashing out," Harry said. "Clearly his plan has fallen to splinters."

"Are you seriously defending him?" Ronald asked.

'Don't be stupid' was Harry's first retort, but he bit it back. "Of course not. I'm just saying he's unhinged. He's lost control of the situation."

"How can you be sure, Harry?" Neville asked. "He's kinda just acting like his son to me."

"Because you don't graduate from Slytherin in good standing without learning to control yourself," Harry explained. "A _real_ Slytherin acts with more tact than Draco. Put it this way: Do you really think I'm cleverer than someone who was part of Voldemort's inner circle? At my age?"

Neither of them said anything to that.

"What was that about following the spiders?" Willow asked.

"If it was me, it'd be a complex code that my friends would be able to figure out with some difficulty," Harry answered. "But since this is _Hagrid_ we're talking about-" he trailed off, pointing at a group of spiders who were fleeing in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

" _Spiders,_ " Ronald moaned. "Why does it have to be _spiders?_ "

"He's terrified of them," Neville explained without prompting.

Harry barely managed not to sneer. "Well, if you don't want to come, you can always just hear about it at breakfast tomorrow."

"Like I'd leave Willow alone with you."

Harry was about to reply how he and Willow snuck off to hang out all the time when a thought occurred to him. Was that _possessiveness_ he was seeing? Did Ronald like his sister or something? The thought made him retch.

"Wait, are we doing this tonight?" Tracey asked.

"Might as well," Harry answered. "I've got everything I need on me."

Tracey's grin didn't falter, but she shot him a curious gaze. "This is a bit rash of you, don't you think?"

Harry considered. "Desperate times, Tracey. Desperate times." He turned to Willow. "You and Donald have been in the Forest before, right?"

"I'm not familiar, if that's what you're asking," she answered. "We were stumbling about in the dark last time."

"Right. I have my broom in case things get sticky," Harry said.

"Same," Tracey added, patting her Mokeskin Pouch.

Willow put on her brave face. "Okay. Let's go."

Tracey grinned and slung her arm around Willow's, in a way that Harry (and probably everyone else) knew was too familiar considering how they barely knew each other. "Don't worry. I'll protect you."

Willow turned beet red. Ronald actually growled.

Harry just rolled his eyes. What a curious life he led.


	17. A Meeting of Monsters

_Prydwen, release Bludgers._

The enchanted trunk whirred to life, its specialized opening expelling the two Bludgers Harry had Dobby 'modify' to make up for what happened in November. They buzzed about above him like rabid animals in search of prey. He'd have to work on that. He'd have preferred if they sat still until commanded.

"What're those supposed to do?" Ronald asked.

He didn't waste his breath on Ronald. Harry focused instead his mind on the Bludgers, then on a thin tree in the distance. He couldn't control them _precisely_ , but he could assign a specific target for them to go after. That's how Dobby had gotten his to go after Harry and Willow. They blasted into the tree with the same force their predecessors did, splitting it in half. 

"Bloody hell," Ronald said.

"Your wand isn't working, right?" Harry asked.

Ronald's tone was both defensive and telling. "It works. Just not exactly how I want it to."

Harry grunted. He brought out his first trunk and took out the three Beater's Bats he'd gotten over the Summer. He tossed one to Tracey, who smirked knowingly, and the other one to Ronald who barely managed to catch it.

" _Engorgio,_ " he incanted, and the Bats grew by roughly twenty percent - still easy enough to swing around, but probably more punishing to whatever they hit.

"In case we run into anything nasty," Harry explained.

Willow sighed. "Why do I get the feeling we're better prepared now than when we went in last year with _actual faculty_?"

"Because none of us have superhuman strength," Harry reminded her.

"Speak for yourself," Tracey said with a smirk.

"That is _not_ a thing you have," Harry said, almost sure.

"Fine, fine. But that's what _these_ are for," Tracey admitted, brandishing the Bat in one hand and her wand in the other.

Harry did the same. "Oh, I suppose there's no point holding anything back."

He willed the Key out of his robes. It floated elegantly beside his head, ready to lash out.

"Merlin's sake, Harry," Neville breathed in astonishment at his overpreparedness. Or at least Harry thought. He was pretty sure Neville had seen the Key before.

Tracey whistled appreciatively. "So _this_ is why Daphne got mad at you for 'holding back.'"

"It was a practice match. I didn't want to do anything I couldn't fix."

He turned to Willow.

"Oh, right. Willow, you can talk to snakes, right?" Harry asked. "Maybe you should call up a few, just in case. Use them to scout ahead and whatnot."

"You're really telling your sister to do Dark Magic?" Ron asked.

"It's Transfiguration, Donald," Harry hissed. "You gonna call McGonagall Dark now?"

"That's actually a good idea," Willow said. " _Serpensortia!_ "

She cast the spell until she was spent, and three different snakes (she clearly had not visualized) slithered ahead of them, following the trail of spiders.

"And Will?" Harry said.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Please don't use your fire powers except as a last resort. The last thing we want is a forest fire."

"I know."

Harry grinned at her. "Just checking, sister."

Harry considered enlarging a few of the arachnids so they could see better and scare Ronald in the process, but thought better of it since he'd lent the Weasley a Beater's Bat. Willow had considered bringing Fang along to act as a guide, but Harry pointed out that if things went to shit, having a dog along would be a liability. Fang couldn't ride a broom.

" _Ssspeaker,_ " one of the snakes said, returning to the group. "The ssspiders gather up ahead. There are many. And big."

Willow relayed the message to the group, still unaware that she and Harry could both speak Parseltongue. That was a tidbit for _after_ the Heir had been dealt with.

"How big?" Harry asked, careful not to slip into Parseltongue himself.

Willow relayed the question. The answer was: bigger than you. Harry did not like the sound of that.

"Maybe we should turn back," Neville suggested.

"We've gotten too far to give up now," Willow said.

Harry didn't comment on how that was such a cliched protagonist line as he watched a shape move in the trees above them: A spider, indeed larger than any of the students gathered. It was probably their last chance to turn back. His faith in Hagrid was wavering, he had to admit, not that there'd been a lot of that in the first place.

Unfortunately, he preferred dealing with giant spiders over dealing with the Dursleys, and if they didn't get to the bottom of this Chamber of Secrets business before the year ended, he'd probably be forced to go back to them. Then again, there _were_ other wizarding schools (he'd checked), but he'd worked much too hard to let all his effort in Hogwarts go to waste.

"Right, Bats back in the trunk except you, Ronald," Harry said. "Brooms out."

He did as he said, placing the two Bats he and Tracey were holding inside the Prydwen trunk (just in case he needed them quickly), and then producing his Nimbus 2001 from his normal one. Tracey's own Nimbus 2001 came out of her pouch.

"Here, Will," Harry said, handing the broom to his sister.

"What? What about you?" Willow asked.

"I can ride with Tracey," Harry answered, shooting Tracey a wink.

"Your hands better not go anywhere I don't want them to," Tracey teased.

They did not mention the truth that neither of them wanted to ride with Ronald.

One of the Prydwen's compartments was loaded with several Potions experiments that would explode on contact, including a flash bomb for blinding enemies. He'd warned Tracey of that one beforehand, since he wasn't sure how sensitive she was to artificial light.

They walked into a grove of trees with a large hollow at the end. Spiders of various sizes skittered about. Wherever they were heading, _this_ was that place. Harry just didn't know what it was.

"Who is it?" a deep, silky voice asked from the hollow. "Hagrid? Is that you?"

"We're friends of Hagrid's," Willow answered, her voice steady and an octave lower than her normal speaking voice. It was Hero Time.

A giant spider climbed out of the hollow, larger than any Harry had seen so far.

"Aragog, I presume?" Harry said.

The spider's eyes seemed to light up in recognition, though it was hard to tell. "That is my name. Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before."

"He's in trouble," Willow said. "Up at the school. There've been attacks. They think it was Hagrid, that he opened the Chamber of Secrets, like before."

The spider's body tensed. "That's a lie! Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets!"

"We know you're not the Monster," Harry spoke.

_Harry, the spiders are surrounding us,_ Nyx whispered.

_It's what I'd do in their position, really,_ he answered.

The spider seemed to relax. "Indeed. The Monster was born in the castle. I came to Hagrid from a distant land, in the pocket of a traveler."

Typical Hagrid. It was Fluffy all over again.

"Hagrid told us to follow the spiders if we wanted to know the truth. He couldn't say himself because the Headmaster forbade it," Harry said. "What else do you know of it?"

"It is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others," Aragog answered.

"So you haven't seen it?" Harry questioned. He was starting to think Hagrid had sent them out here for information they already knew.

"Seen it? I would be dead if I had. No, friend of Hagrid, I saw no part of the castle other than the box he kept me in. When he was accused, Hagrid brought me here."

"Wait," Willow said. "Do you mean the creature kills with its sight?"

"Yes, whatever meets its gaze directly meets a swift end. You can see why we fear it."

Huh. Harry supposed his gut feeling it was like the Greek Medusa wasn't so far off after all.

Nyx's voice in his head was skittish. _Harry, this is a lot of spiders. A lot._

_Right. Time to talk terms, then._

"Well, thank you, Aragog. You've been most helpful," Harry said. "And I wouldn't dare leave without compensating you for your help. I can have fresh meat delivered to you. Do you prefer pork, chicken, or beef?"

"Do not think me a simple beast, friend of Hagrid," Aragog said. "I see you trying to worm your way out of my grasp as you fear for your life."

"Am I wrong to?"

The spider laughed. "No, young one. Very well, I will accept your bargain. Pork or beef will do, whichever you can provide more of."

"Excellent," Harry said. "I'll get it to you within a week."

_Nyx, does your Glamour work on these things?_

_Kind of, but there's too many right now._

He frowned. Not the answer he'd been hoping for.

"What is your name, young one?" Aragog asked.

"Harry," he answered. "Harry Potter, though you can just call me 'Harry.'"

"You are wise beyond your years, Harry," Aragog spoke. "Go now. My children will leave you be."

"Thank you, Great Aragog."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and turned to go back the way they came when the single, most annoying sentence he'd ever heard was uttered.

"But wait," Ronald said. "We still don't know what the creature's called. Are we really going to just go without-"

"We do not speak of it!" Aragog yelled, shutting Ronald and any other sound in the clearing up. Harry wanted to scream, they could've simply walked out, narrowed down the Monster's identity based on all the details they knew.

"I have changed my mind, Harry," Aragog spoke. "You intrude upon our sanctuary without invitation. Your friend (Harry took offense to that) demands the name of our greatest enemy, of which we do not speak. The meat you promise is tempting, but who am I to deny my children food when it walks into our midst so willingly?"

He was tempted to say Ronald wasn't his friend and that Aragog could have him if he so wished, but he knew Willow would never be on board with it. Instead he said, "I apologize for his idiocy, Great Aragog, but surely you see the benefit of a partnership with me?"

The Bludgers continued to whir about above him, their speed increasing just a fraction.

Lockhart's Lessons Number Seven: Figure out what they want and imply you have it. It puts them in a state of mind easier to manipulate.

"You are but a young boy," Aragog answered, ignoring the implied threat. "Wise though you may be, what could you possibly offer?"

"A monthly tribute of meat," Harry offered. "Not as much as what I'm going to give you in exchange for our lives, but it would be a steady supply for you and your children."

"And what would you ask in exchange for this monthly tribute?"

"Safe passage within your forest," Harry said. "And perhaps, your friendship?"

Aragog considered. "What guarantee do I have of this arrangement?"

"If the deliveries stop for more than a month, consider our alliance undone. I'll also make regular visits to ensure you're actually receiving the food."

"What else?"

Harry paused to consider. Lockhart had taught him to recognize a shakedown when he saw one. In a fair trade, you weren't supposed to play ball, but in his situation where refusal might've meant death, it wasn't worth it.

"I actually have something living you can have right now," Harry said. "To tide you over before you get the delivery for letting us go."

_Prydwen, release Troll._

The Prydwen opened up, depositing the miniature Troll on the ground. It was still (remarkably) asleep even after almost a year. Not to mention alive. Harry had expected it to die at some point from hunger.

Everyone's mouths (even Tracey's) fell open as Harry undid the _Reducio_ spells he, Theo, and Blaise had cast on it the previous year. The Troll returned to its previous size, still asleep and blissfully unaware Harry had offered it up as a sacrifice.

"Will that be acceptable?" Harry asked. Personally, he thought he would rather die than eat Troll meat, but he wasn't a giant spider.

"You are full of surprises," Aragog said. "You gather curious things, much like Hagrid, yet I suspect you do not do so out of love."

"No, I suppose I don't," Harry answered. "I am not like Hagrid. He gathered his many pets because he cherished them. I, on the other hand, gather curiosities to protect those I _do_ cherish."

There was a vague hint there, that if Aragog did not accept, he would instead loose the Troll and the Bludgers on Aragog's Brood, and they'd either get out of the hollow alive or die trying. Either way, many of Aragog's children would die.

"You remind me of him," Aragog said.

"Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"The one who opened the Chamber," Aragog answered. "The one who accused Hagrid."

Harry's wand arm stood ready. He could probably wake the Troll with less effort using a well-placed Stinging Hex instead of manually removing the sleeping enchantment Quirrell placed on it. The Bludgers could probably take Aragog, but the swarm- He could bring out the three Basmu inside the Prydwen, even if it meant drawing suspicion he was Slytherin's Heir.

Then the five of them could flee into the sky, hopefully without hitting any webs. It was a long shot, but-

"You may go," Aragog spoke.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Go to the Castle, defeat Hagrid's nemesis," Aragog drawled. "Slay the great foe of all spiders. Do these things, and my brood shall consider you our ally, now and forevermore."

"As you wish, Great Aragog," Harry answered, bowing his head slightly.

"Goodbye, Harry Potter, and friends of Hagrid."

The spiders allowed them to leave unmolested like Aragog said, opting to descend upon the sacrificial Troll. It seemed like a bit of a waste, in Harry's opinion, but then, there weren't a lot of things an uncontrolled Troll could accomplish that an enlarged Boa Constrictor couldn't. Magic resistance made a world of difference against wizards, but against giant spiders? Not really.

"Willow," Harry said once they were a fair distance from the hollow. "Do you have any idea what the monster is now, with all the information we've learned?"

"I do," Willow said. "I think I've read about it in the library, but I don't remember the name."

Harry nodded. Leave it to his sister to be able to stomach the library _only_ for magizoology. "Right. It's late, but first thing tomorrow, we should go and scan the Magizoology section for any references to 'Snake Monster, Slytherin, Kills with Gaze,' and 'Enemy of Spiders.'"

"Oh, I get it," Ronald said. " _That's_ why you were alright with leaving without asking its name."

Something snapped inside Harry that he'd been trying to hold back. "What is _wrong_ with you? You're brilliant at Chess, which implies you've got some level of intelligence, but you never apply it to anything else! He was about to let us _simply walk out of Mordor_ and you ruined it!"

"What's the big deal?" Ronald asked, looking affronted. "You managed to talk your way out of it."

"You cost me my _Mountain Troll,_ you imbecile," Harry hissed. "I was going to use that against the Monster, or maybe even Voldemort!" 

Ronald paled, though Harry wasn't sure if it was because of him or because of his using the word 'Voldemort.' He hoped to Merlin it was the former.

"You're just lucky Aragog hates the Heir of Slytherin as much as he does, or you'd be spider chow by now, as would we all!"

Harry whirled away from Ronald, storming over to Tracey who had her broom ready for mounting. The five of them rode back to the castle without incident or conversation, all drained from barely escaping death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done for today. You probably know what comes next. 
> 
> RIP Mountain Troll.


	18. Snakes in the Grass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 18, 19, and 20 are going to be uploaded in rapid succession because they're relatively short and I don't want to leave you all with cliffhangers during these scenes.

"I've got it!" Hermione said the next morning in the library. "It's in 'Most Macabre Monstrosities!'"

Madam Pince didn't seem to hear her, largely thanks to the _Quietus_ Harry had mumbled before they all sat down.

Harry almost rolled his eyes at the book, which had depictions on the front of monsters that would've fit in a Lovecrafitan horror novel. Why hadn't they looked at that book first? "Well, go on. Don't kill us with suspense."

The table nodded in agreement. Theo, Blaise, Tracey, Daphne, Willow, and Neville sat in attendance. Willow had wisely left Ronald behind after the previous night's events.

"It's a Basilisk," Hermione explained, turning the book back so they could see:

_Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._

" _Avis!_ " Harry and Theo cast at nearly the same time. A total of five roosters appeared, and then crowed. Despite the quietening charm, Madam Pince looked like she was about to murder them to death, but that was better than actually getting murdered.

"A bloody rooster stops it?" Harry asked, baffled.

"So that's why Hagrid's roosters were killed," Willow spoke, earning her looks from the whole table. "Oh, sorry. I guess I didn't mention that. Didn't think it was related. It happened around the time Justin got Petrified."

"But how's it been getting around the castle without being seen?" Blaise asked. "It sounds bloody huge!"

"It must be the pipes," Willow answered, once again earning her looks from everyone gathered. "Sorry! It's just I remembered how we used snakes to scout the Forest last night, and I thought I'd do the same inside the castle. I had a few snakes find ways to sneak around the school, and they said the pipes were large enough to fit a much bigger snake. It would explain why I've been hearing it whispering through the walls."

Theo, Blaise, and Daphne looked like they were doing their best not to stare at Harry for not thinking of that sooner. Only the fact that it would reveal him as a Parselmouth seemed to stop them.

"To the Staff Room?" Theo suggested.

"To the Staff Room," Harry said.

The Staff Room was located on the ground floor of Hogwarts, protected by two talking Gargoyles. The door lay open for some reason, so they overheard McGonagall's voice from inside.

"There's been another attack," she said.

"Who is it?" Professor Sprout asked.

"Ginevra Weasley," Snape answered. "She's been taken by the Monster, into the Chamber itself."

Cold fury welled up in Harry. Ginny. They'd gotten closer over the year. He'd taught her the etiquette, how to protect herself from getting hexed for being a Weasley in Slytherin. He'd told Fred and George and Molly and Arthur he'd look out for her.

She was Pureblood, too. The Heir's goals had certainly changed, it seemed.

"How can you be sure?" Flitwick asked, his squeaky voice adding no levity to the conversation.

"Because the Heir left a message," Snape drawled. "Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever."

"We shall have to send the students home tomorrow," McGonagall said. "This may very well be the end of Hogwarts."

There was a bang, probably a door opening, and Lockhart's voice rang out, "Dreadfully sorry, must've dozed off. What have I missed?"

"Ah, Gilderoy, just the man," Snape spoke acidly. "A girl has been taken into the Chamber. Your moment has come at last."

"That's right," another Professor chimed in. Harry couldn't have been sure who. "Weren't you saying you've known all along where the Chamber is?"

"I, well, I-" Lockhart stammered. Harry's palm pressed against his forehead. Lockhart was forgetting his own speechcraft lessons. He definitely wasn't a Slytherin.

"I certainly remember you mentioning you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster," Snape said. Harry could practically see the sneer on his Head of House's face. "Didn't you say that whole ordeal had been a mess, and you'd have handled it better if you'd been given free rein?"

"I, well, I- you may have misunderstood-"

"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy," McGonagall said with a tone of finality. "You have all night. Free rein at last, no one to get in your way."

"V-very well," Lockhart sputtered. "I'll just be in my office. Getting ready."

Lockhart strode out of the staff room, oblivious to the group of Gryffindor and Slytherin students trailing after him. He didn't even get to close his office door before Harry held it open with a hand.

"Harry!" Lockhart greeted. "Er, good to see you, my boy, but uh, I have a thing in Argentina, very urgent, can't delay-"

"You're leaving?" Hermione asked. She'd always been one of the few students who didn't see him for what he was: Brilliant wizard in his own way, but not for the things he claimed to be good at.

"Afraid so," Lockhart said. "Really important, and-"

"Relax, Gilderoy," Harry said. "I'm not asking you to stay and fight the Monster."

"Harry! What?" Willow protested.

Lockhart blinked, as if seeing the boy he'd be tutoring's true nature for the first time. "Then why _are_ you here?"

"I've come to the conclusion that, though you are not _quite_ perfect," Harry said, playing on Lockhart's ego, "You happen to excel at tracking down wizards and witches who've achieved great things and shall we say, learning from them without them remembering the meeting? I might have an opportunity for you, if you can tell us anything you know about the Chamber of Secrets."

Lockhart smiled. "I'm afraid I don't know anything. Only what the rumors say."

Harry nodded. He'd expected as much. "Very well. Have you heard of the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Created by the legendary Nicholas Flamel," Lockhart said. "Of course I have. What of it?"

"The Prophet says the Stone's been destroyed," Harry said. "But I have strong reason to believe otherwise."

There was an excited grin on Lockhart's face. "The Stone is with Flamel, still?"

"Indeed," Harry answered. "If my reasoning is correct, that is. It certainly wouldn't hurt for a man of your talents to check, no? And as far as I know, Flamel has disappeared from the public eye."

Lockhart laughed. "Gilderoy Lockhart was not born yesterday, my boy. What exactly are you offering in exchange for my finding the Stone?"

"Fame and Fortune greater than you could achieve alone, even with the Stone," Harry answered. "You said it yourself, Gilderoy. You were not born yesterday."

"I shall think on your words," Lockhart said, smiling. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must be on my way."

"We'll leave you to it," Harry said, and they walked out of the office.

"Harry-" Neville, Hermione, and Willow said at the same time. They looked at each other, and decided to let Willow go first. The group didn't stop walking, following Harry.

"Harry, what are you playing at?" she asked him.

"Not here, not now," Harry said. "We need to get to the Chamber. Anyone who wants to turn back, do so now. This won't be like last year when Dumbledore orchestrated a trap for Quirrell."

"Aren't you being a bit rash, mate?" Blaise asked. "We could at least get some backup."

"I agree with Blaise," Theo said. "We don't know what other threats the Heir commands."

"I say we go for it," Daphne chimed in, her eyes hard like steel.

"Who are you and what have you done with Daphne?" Blaise asked.

"You and Ginny aren't even close," Theo added.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "A Pure-blood Slytherin has been taken, even if she _is_ a Weasley."

Willow opened her mouth. "Maybe I should get-"

"Ronald doesn't have a working wand," Harry reminded her. "Fred and George would be better picks, but even so, we don't have time."

"Where are we even going?" Neville asked.

"To the Chamber's opening," Harry said. "The place where the Basilisk's one and only kill died."

They continued in relative silence until they reached Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, specifically to the circle of sinks where Myrtle said she'd seen the Basilisk. It had been Willow's comment about the pipes that finally made him understand where the entrance to the Chamber was.

"There," Harry said, seeing an engraving of a snake on one of the faucets. "Speak Parseltongue at it."

" _Open,_ " Willow hissed, and the sink began to move before sinking out of sight, revealing a large hole in the ground that was clearly large enough for a person, let alone a giant snake.

"Right," Harry said. "Now we know the Chamber exists, we can go back to the staff room and-"

Harry never got to finish his sentence as a gust of wind came from nowhere and pushed him and Willow inside. His bum hit the pipe as they slid down into the dark interior of the pipe. " _Lumos!_ "

The wandlight did little to illuminate the darkness. The single large pipe branched into several smaller ones, though none of them were large enough for people. They fell for what felt like eternity. Harry guessed they'd gone past the dungeons by now, and into the very depths of the Hogwarts grounds. If he wasn't fearing for his life, he might have wondered if the Hogwarts wards extended this far.

His speed decreased gradually as the pipe leveled out before finally spitting him out. He rolled aside just in time to see Willow, Theo, and Daphne fall in after him. And then, shortly after, to his surprise, Tracey. If they'd all fallen in at once, why had she lagged behind?

He immediately stepped back and leveled his wand at all five. "Who was it?" he asked, despite knowing he'd never get a straight answer.

"It was Theo," Tracey said, her own wand pointed at the boy who looked absolutely lost. "I saw his wand come out of its holster just as the four of you got pushed in."

"That's absurd!" Theo shot back. "I got swept in just like they did. What about you? How come no one else jumped in after us?"

"Because you closed the Chamber back up as soon as you got through," Tracey pointed out. "I only made it through because of my reflexes."

"Harry, you can't seriously believe this?" Theo asked.

Willow was speechless. Harry was, too. There had to be some kind of trick. One of his friends wouldn't turn against him like this. Would they? Hadn't he treated them all with respect? Hadn't they helped each other through academics, laughed at each other's expense? Grown as a sort of family? How could one or more of them be working for the Heir?

He pushed the thoughts away. He needed to be calm, and think. The Heir had gotten him off balance. That was supposed to be _his_ shtick. He needed to stay in control or all of his friends would die.

Harry considered his options: He could take his broom and try to get the chamber back open, but if Tracey was telling the truth and the Heir had closed it back up, there was no guarantee he'd be able to unseal it. That, and it posed a serious risk: Whoever of his friends remained loyal would be stuck down here with the traitor. Or traitors. That left only one choice...

"Then it's simple," Daphne said. "Theo and Tracey can take point. The three of us can take the rear."

 _Harry!_ Nyx's voice called, frantic.

 _Nyx, did you get in?_ Harry asked.

_No, Harry, I'm sorry, but Twilight Sparkle did._

_It's not your fault. I got careless. I'll see you later._

_Be careful._

Like Harry needed to be told twice.

"Sounds good to me," Willow said.

"Sorry Theo, Tracey," Harry added. "I can't take the risk."

"Right," Daphne said. "If you two would-"

"You too, Daph," Harry cut in. "Sorry, but the Heir has clearly compromised us somehow. Until they've been dealt with, I can only trust myself and Willow."

Daphne looked like she was about to protest, but nodded. "Fine, Harry."

Harry cast the Scouring Charm on everyone before they proceeded, following the pipe tunnel as it bent. His mind worked a mile a minute trying to figure out how the Heir had pulled it off. Polyjuice? Transfiguration? Some kind of Mind Control magic? All of the above?

"Remember," Willow said. "If you see movement, close your eyes."

"There," Theo said. Pointing at something in a forking tunnel. "There's something there."

The thing in question sat unmoving, almost as if- Oh, Harry knew what it was.

"It's a shed skin," he explained. "It _is_ a snake, after all."

They moved past the shed skin, no one commenting on its size. The corridor continued a ways until it finally ended in a wall carved with the images of serpents. Emeralds were inlaid in each snake's eyes.

"Willow," Harry prodded. "Lights out, then open it."

"Right," she said. The five of them dimmed their wands. " _Open._ "

In that brief darkness, Harry silently unshrunk the Prydwen and ordered it to trail behind him slightly. He didn't release the Bludgers quite yet, because they made too much noise, but the Key floated out of his robes and to the side, ready to strike.

There was a crack as the wall slid open and moved aside, permitting them through. Harry and Willow followed Theo, Tracey, and Daphne into the Chamber of Secrets.

A long, surprisingly well-lit corridor stretched out before them, supported by pillars that stretched upwards into darkness. Harry couldn't see a ceiling despite the light around him. A massive statue of a man Harry presumed was supposed to be Salazar Slytherin stood on the opposite end of the corridor, facing the chamber entrance.

Two bodies lay at the statue's feet: One with fiery red hair, and one with- with- with long blond hair, and a green trim to her robes.

" _Expelliarmus,_ " Daphne and Tracey said at the same time, and Willow's, Theo's and Harry's wands all flew out of their hands.

"Hello, Harry, Willow, so good to finally meet face-to-face," Daphne spoke before her features began to warp.


	19. The Heir Regent

'Daphne' grew taller, her clothes stretching with her in a way Polyjuice didn't cover. Her blond hair turned dark, her blue eyes a dark brown. She warped until she was no longer Daphne at all. He was a boy who looked several years older than Harry, handsome and with a dignified air about him.

"Who are you?" Willow asked. Harry spotted her lighter hidden in her left fist.

"Tom," the figure answered. "Tom Riddle."

There was something odd about him, like he was somewhere between real and not. He held Daphne's wand, and he _looked_ like a person, but something felt off.

"Are you a ghost?" Willow asked.

"A memory," Riddle answered, seeming to pay no attention to Harry. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

Riddle pointed to a small black book that sat between Ginny and the real Daphne. Tracey kept her wand trained on the three of them.

"Did you cast the Imperius on Tracey?" Harry asked.

The specter's eyes slid over to him as if he was an inconvenience beneath his notice, but he answered, "Indeed. I'm surprised you know of it at your age."

"It's a common defense at criminal hearings," Harry explained. He kept his voice even. It wouldn't do to strike without an opportunity. Riddle had all the wands. Harry knew Riddle had been favored by Dippet, which likely meant he was brilliant. If he could cast the Imperius even as a shade… Still, Harry needed the conversation to proceed. "Speaking of which, you framed Hagrid, didn't you?"

A smirk that could only belong on a Slytherin appeared on Riddle's face. "Why would you say that?"

"Tom Riddle, Prefect, top of your class," Harry began. "Myrtle Warren's ghost swore to Dippet that Hagrid was innocent, but Dippet needed a scapegoat so the school wouldn't close down. And let's be honest, compared to you, Hagrid is nothing. As if Hagrid has enough cunning in his body to be the Heir of Slytherin."

Riddle's smile was dry. "I could say the same of you, Heir of House Potter. I've been anxious to meet the both of you. Ginny was right. You _are_ more interesting than your sister. Tell me, why does the entire school seem to think _Willow_ is the Heir of Slytherin?"

Harry knew from the way Riddle's mouth twisted that he _knew_ Harry was a Parselmouth. But how? He'd only ever told- Oh, right. Ginny and Daphne both knew.

"It's because I'm a Parselmouth," Willow answered.

Riddle tutted. "You didn't tell your own sister?"

"Harry? What is he talking about?" Willow asked.

Harry kept his eyes on Riddle. " _Am a Parssselmouth, sssame asss you._ "

"But you pretended the whole time-"

"He's a _Slytherin,_ " Riddle said, cutting her off. "I had my doubts, but now I see your friends weren't wrong."

That brought Willow's attention back to him. "Why _are_ Ginny and Greengrass here?"

Riddle turned back to her. "Because Ginny's had my diary for the entire school year. I'd expected it to be boring to listen to the problems of a little girl, but she surprised me. Her family shuns her because of her Sorting into the greatest house, the same way my birth father shunned my mother and me for our magic."

"So that's why there was only one attack," Harry said. "You didn't want the school to close down, either."

Riddle only smiled and gave a small nod, continuing. "I was kind - the best friend she ever had. And the more of herself she put into me, the stronger I got, until I could put a bit of myself back into her."

"What're you talking about?" Willow asked.

Riddle turned back to Harry. "Do _you_ see it?"

Merlin, he did. "Ginny opened the Chamber, wrote the messages on the wall, loosed the Basilisk on unsuspecting mudbloods."

"She also murdered Hagrid's roosters," Tom supplied. "Which you forgot to conjure, incidentally. I didn't think my little performance would've gotten you so unhinged."

Harry bit his lip. He'd fallen for his own trick.

"To be fair, I'm not entirely sure the bit about a rooster's crows killing a Basilisk is true," Tom answered. "If they're made by placing a chicken egg under a toad, the odds of successfully creating one seem ridiculously low."

"And Daphne?" Harry asked. "How long have you been posing as her?"

"Only since yesterday," Riddle answered. "While you were all out on your little field trip." 

Right. They'd left Daphne alone in the castle. Still, that meant Riddle didn't know _all_ of Harry's tricks.

"But I've known her for months now," Riddle said, surprising Harry. "You see, Ginny finally realized she wasn't going insane, that it had something to do with my diary, and she tried to get rid of it. Daphne found it, and made a good, but misguided attempt at stopping me herself."

"What? There's no way Daph would be that stupid," Theo spoke for the first time.

Riddle didn't even look at him. "She's a clever girl, certainly a great witch in her year, but she's been plagued by doubt for a while now. You see, she's come to realize that no matter how hard she beats you Potters in Dueling or how high her grades are, she'll never be a match for either of you."

Harry didn't say a word. He'd had a feeling, ever since she'd beaten Willow in Dueling Club only for the rumor mill to focus on Willow's being a Parselmouth, but-

"So, she investigated the diary, unknowingly pouring strength into me. Ginny alone wouldn't have given me the power to cast anything more than rudimentary spells," Riddle explained, smirking all the while. "But with Daphne as well, I can manage some of the things that get people sent to Azkaban."

“You lost control of her, didn’t you?” Harry asked. “She was the one who sent the snake after Malfoy and Pansy.”

Riddle’s face turned to a grimace. “How astute of you. Yes, she managed to momentarily break my hold on her. I suspect a combination of her limited exposure to me and a surprisingly strong will for one her age. The Basilisk was supposed to go after your Mudblood Gryffindor friend, you see. I thought it would’ve been poetic: The Mudblood upstart brought low by her jealous, highborn friend.”

Willow shifted to his right, but thankfully, she didn’t launch a half-arsed attack on her own. He couldn’t blame her.

Harry’s own blood boiled, but he kept his emotions as controlled as he could. "You arranged this, didn’t you? You knew we'd come for Ginny and Daphne, and then when you realized we were smart enough to go back for help, you pushed us in. Why?"

"Oh, because Ginny told me all about our history," Riddle drawled.

"Our?" Willow echoed, voice hard. Harry had caught it, too.

"I no longer cared about killing Mudbloods," Riddle said. "You see, for many months now, my target has been you, Girl Who Lived. I knew you'd be trying to figure out who was behind the attacks. And if not you, then your brother."

"Oh, Willow was already on your scent," Harry drawled. "She did something that hasn't been done in centuries: Infiltrated the Slytherin Common Room."

Riddle's eyebrows rose. "Oh? How did you manage _that_?"

"Polyjuice Potion," Willow answered defiantly. "Brewed by Hermione Granger, one of those Mudbloods you hate so much."

Harry smirked. "I _do_ find it amusing that the Heir of Slytherin who set out to murder Muggle-borns was himself not Pure of blood."

"My father was a good-for-nothing who left me to rot in an orphanage," Riddle hissed. "Until Hogwarts, that is."

Harry didn't like that he understood that feeling, and even less that Riddle's eyes were peering at him as if Riddle knew _exactly_ what went on with the Dursleys. He didn’t detect any kind of mental invasion against his Occlumency, but maybe Voldemort just schemed on that high a level.

"I've answered your questions," Riddle said. "Now answer mine. Tell me, Willow Potter, how was it that _you_ managed to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort? As an infant, no less?"

Harry saw Willow was about to actually answer and cut her off. "Why do _you_ care about Voldemort? You were in Hogwarts closer to Grindelwald's time. Voldemort came long after you-"

An act, of course. The moment Riddle said he was the memory of the previous Heir, Harry had already pieced together whom they were really dealing with. He didn't like where this was going.

Riddle laughed. "Go on, Harry. Finish your sentence."

"What is it, Harry?" Willow asked.

Harry pretended he couldn't speak, that things had just gone from bad to worse. He needed to catch Riddle off guard if he had any hope of beating him.

"Lord Voldemort is my past, present, and future," Riddle declared, tracing lines of fire in the air using Daphne's wand:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

He waved his hand and the letters rearranged themselves:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

"You can't be serious," Harry said without thinking. "I thought it was French! How long did you have to workshop that? Did you just have a sheet of paper in class where you rearranged the letters until they formed something you liked?"

"It _is_ French," Riddle answered sharply. "It just also happens to be formed out of my grandfather's name. I spent quite a bit of time on it, thank you very much. A fitting name for the most powerful sorceror the world has ever seen."

Harry pursed his lips. Maybe he shouldn't have antagonized Voldemort's moody teenage self. It just seemed so stupid. Grindelwald probably didn't need to make up a name like that. Then again, 'Tom' was one of the least threatening names someone could've been born with.

He was glad Willow at least had the sense not to make it worse by spouting some line about how Albus Dumbledore was the greatest sorceror of all time. He could only imagine what kind of reaction _that_ would've gotten.

"Confirm something for me, Tom," Harry said. "How'd the Diary wind up with Ginny in the first place?"

"That, I do not know," Tom answered. "My perception of the outside world was limited to what people wrote in the diary. I presume my older self placed it in the safekeeping of a trusted lieutenant. It's what I would do."

"So you don't have your own account of what happened during the wizarding war? Why Lord Voldemort decided to overthrow the Ministry?" Harry asked.

Tom shook his head. "I can guess, but even I am not omniscient."

"Take your best shot, then, if you feel like it."

Tom seemed to consider. "I suspect my older self went to war to change policies toward muggles. Is it true they've reached the moon and then safely made it back?"

Harry nodded. "Bit over two decades ago."

"I always believed the muggles were a scourge upon wizarding kind," Riddle said. "That one day, they would destroy everything to an extent not even I would survive. I cannot speak for my older self, for he is wiser and tempered by experience, but that would be my guess. Surely, you've seen the muggle side of Grindelwald's war?"

"Thank you," Harry said. He meant it. Was always good to understand what the enemy wanted.

"You know, Ginny seemed to think Albus Dumbledore surpassed me," Riddle said, sneering. "But as you can see, the very memory of me has driven him from this castle."

"Albus Dumbledore will never truly be gone from Hogwarts," Willow responded. "Not as long as at least one person loyal to him still remains."

Just as Riddle was about to speak, a beautiful song echoed through the Chamber. Riddle stopped moving, more curious than anything else. Fawkes blazed forth from above, bringing a wave of happiness and comfort to the dim chamber. Harry's Occlumency recognized it as foreign magic, but he allowed it. He could use a bit of comfort for what was coming.

Fawkes dumped a bundle of cloth in front of Willow before landing on her shoulder. With the Phoenix illuminating her hair a shade of red-orange, Willow actually _did_ look like a flame princess. She bent down to pick the bundle up, and only then did Harry recognize the Sorting Hat.

"A bird and a hat?" Riddle sneered. "Dumbledore certainly provides only the best for his champion."

Neither Harry nor Theo made any witty remarks. It seemed they were both disappointed, too.

"I don't need more than this to take on the likes of you," Willow said with a confidence Harry was pretty sure she didnt' actually feel.

"Oh, of course. You've defeated me twice now. Let's see how I do on round three!" Riddle declared, turning to the statue. " _Ssservant of Ssslytherin, the Heir callsss you forth._ "

That was Harry's cue.

_Prydwen, Flash Bomb! Then release Bludgers!_

Just as the statue's stone face opened to let the Basilisk out, Harry closed his eyes, and sincerely hoped Theo and Willow did, too. There was a sound of shattering glass as the Potions experiment flew through the air and smashed against the floor. The explosion blazed like the sun even against Harry's closed eyelids, so he could only imagine what Riddle, the Basilisk, and Tracey were feeling.

The Basilisk hissed in rage, " _It blindsss usss!_ "

Harry saw his chance. He opened his eyes, still narrowed to slits, and directed the Bludgers to attack Riddle. His Key flew out of the dark tunnel and straight into the Basilisk's left eye.

The Bludgers just passed through Riddle's ghostly form, which in hindsight, Harry should've anticipated. He and Theo advanced on the blinded Tracey, who'd dropped their wands as well as hers so she could shield her eyes, and picked them up. Riddle still held Daphne and Willow's wands.

" _Ferula!_ " Harry incanted, wrapping Tracey tightly in bandages. " _Duro!_ " and the bandages turned to stone. He had no clue how to undo an Imperius, but leaving a mind-controlled half-vampire on the enemy team unchecked seemed like a terrible idea.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Theo shot at Riddle, but he parried it out of the air despite his momentary blindness. Harry wasn't sure all three of them together could take on Riddle, but the Basilisk was another matter. He redirected the Bludgers to strike its body just as Fawkes flew forward to stab at its remaining eye with his beak and talons.

The Basilisk raged, its eyes ruined and its body pummeled, though not even the unfettered Bludgers could do more than inconvenience it because of its thick hide.

"You really _are_ from my House," Riddle said, opening his eyes and setting them on Harry. "Your methods are crude, but effective."

There was a flash of orange and a ball of fire flew from Willow towards Riddle. Harry quirked an eyebrow. So he'd been right: it wasn't _just_ wordless. It was wandless, too.

The flame crashed uselessly against Riddle's shield. "A neat parlor trick, but nonmagical fire is nothing to a wizard."

Willow looked furious. Harry knew the feeling. She must've felt powerless against him. He didn't want to admit it, but she kind of was. Riddle could deflect her flames without a problem.

"Will," Harry said. "Take the Basilisk. Without its sight, I think you can manage."

Willow looked like she was about to protest, but she nodded. "Alright. Don't die."

"You, too," Harry answered before turning back to Tom, who let his sister pass without incident.

"I was going to set the Basilisk on her anyway," Tom said. "But very well, I can teach a few second years some things about battle magic."

Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as the Basilisk was engulfed by a blast of fire, and then slammed by his Bludgers. The Key he'd pulled back, waiting somewhere in the darkness above for a good target.

"Maybe we can trade," Harry offered. "You said you wanted to know how the Girl Who Lived survived and defeated your older self."

"Trade for what?" Riddle mused. "I suppose I could use a pair of lieutenants inside Hogwarts, assuming the school doesn't close down. Very well, tell me, and I shall let you live as my servants."

Harry shook his head. "Actually, I was thinking information for information."

"What good is that to you dead?" Riddle sneered, but he didnt' object. Nor did Harry. The same held true for Riddle, after all. "Fine. Tell me what defeated Lord Voldemort and I'll tell you whatever you want to know, though I do not know everything my older self knows, obviously."

"That's fine, Tom," Harry replied. "What I want to know is something _you_ know. But my end first: Blood Magic. Our mother's strong affection towards us provided a form of protection that sent the Killing Curse back at you."

"I see," Riddle said. "I am no expert in Blood Magic myself, but I can see it. I suppose that explains why you count a half-vampire in your Inner Circle. Your turn. Ask away."

Harry eyed Willow to make sure she was still occupied. His eyes narrowed when he saw she'd managed to produce a flaming sword from somewhere, and was using it to slash haphazardly at the Basilisk. Riddle followed his gaze, and had barely-concealed surprise on his face.

"A curious pair, you Potter Twins," Riddle commented, as if they weren't fighting a life-or-death battle. "Fortunate I'll be killing you before you reach maturity. Now, ask your question."

"How did you become the Heir?" Harry said. "And I don't mean how your family traces lineage to Salazar. I mean how did you _claim_ your birthright? Surely, there's more to it than showing up to Hogwarts and entering the Chamber."

"An academic question?" Riddle asked. Harry didn't correct him. "I'm surprised you're not in Ravenclaw. To answer, yes, it had to do with my mother, who was a Gaunt, tracing her lineage back to Salazar himself, but I could not command the Basilisk nor access Salazar's secrets until I asked the Statue of Salazar to accept me. It bears a list of names, you see, of every Heir the Chamber has accepted. In Parseltongue, of course, so only _we_ may read it. My name is the last."

"And the Chamber still recognizes you even though your true self is out there somewhere?" Harry asked. 

"Well, I suppose I'm more of an Heir Regent than the actual Heir," Riddle admitted. "Should my older self ever return to Hogwarts, or any of Salazar's descendants claim the title, then _they_ would be the new Heir of Slytherin. It is academic, of course, as I am the last of the Gaunt line and will live forever."

"You would defeat your older self?" Harry asked.

"Of course. He failed," Riddle answered matter-of-factly. "I'll take the ashes of his achievements and rebuild. Surpass him in every way. I'll start by succeeding where he could not: Killing both of you. Maybe I'll send one to the moon this time so not even Dumbledore can reach it."

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " Riddle incanted, and a flash of green light flew from Willow's wand. Harry barely had time to react, casting _Avis_ while he tried desperately to dodge. A flock of bluebirds appeared in front of him, with one of them taking the Killing Curse and falling to the ground.

Harry grinned at Riddle. He'd just blocked _Avada Kedavra_ by placing something technically alive in front of it. He'd never had the chance to try blocking it, of course, since he couldn't cast the spell (he'd tried), but he'd suspected after reading up on it that it had a fatal weakness: The Killing Curse could kill any creature regardless of magic resistance, but it only killed one at a time, and physical objects could be used to block it, as it required line of sight.

"Impossible," Riddle breathed. "That spell is supposed to be unblockable!"

So, this version of Riddle had little experience with the spell. He supposed Riddle _had_ relied on the Basilisk for his attacks when he was a a student.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Theo yelled, but Riddle was still on guard, parrying the spell with Daphne's wand.

" _Diffindo!_ " A slicing shot flew from Harry's wand, aimed at Riddle's throat, but it only struck the Chamber's wall behind him, not even doing any damage.

It was honestly a little unfair that he could hold two wands but physical attacks just phased through him.

Riddle sent Dark Curses after them, and it was all Harry and Theo could do to evade. Harry hadn't even heard of most of Riddle's arsenal, but he knew a lot of Dark Curses were unblockable.

Riddle was toying with them now, confident in his own invulnerability. Harry was running low on both stamina and magic. They had to do something, and do it fast.

Harry held his wand aloft, and said, " _Avada Kedavra!_ "

The Key shot forward, barely missing Riddle.

No light had come out of Harry's wand, because Harry had put no intent into the spell, but Riddle fell for it, throwing himself to the side to avoid the path of the streaking Key. It seemed not even Tom Riddle's shade was confident he could survive the Killing Curse.

" _Expelliarmus,_ " Theo incanted, almost a whisper. The red sparks hit true, and Daphne and Willow's wands flew out of the shade's hands.

Harry smirked at the defeated Riddle, but the boy only smirked back. "You look pleased, but I've already won, Harry."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it as he realized Riddle's meaning. He turned back to Willow just in time to see her plunge her flaming sword into the Basilisk's mouth, but as she pulled her arm free, Harry saw it: a single Basilisk fang sticking into her arm.


	20. Alpha and Omega

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'E' in Zarde is silent. You'll know what I'm talking about in a few minutes.
> 
> Also, if you're here because you automatically went to latest chapter, I actually posted 18, 19, and 20 at once, so you might wanna go back two steps.

Harry set his sister down on the ground, her torso raised above the rest of her body before he pulled the fang out of Willow's arm as quickly as he dared. He'd volunteered enough at the Hospital Wing to know that sometimes removing whatever was causing the wound could do just as much if not more harm than the actual wounding. Obviously, that wasn't true in this case because the Basilisk Fang had _bloody venom_ on it, but he took care all the same.

His hands moved like clockwork, unshrinking his trunk and pulling out the single flask of Anti-venom he kept with his Wiggenwelds. "Drink," he said, practically forcing the concoction down Willow's throat. She sputtered, but her face continued to grow paler with every second.

Theo had his wand trained on Riddle, not that the shade could do much without a wand.

"Fool," Riddle taunted from behind him. "As if common Anti-Venom could overpower the Basilisk's venom."

Harry had known that, of course. Even a Bezoar, effective against most poisons, probably couldn't counter the venom of such a powerful creature, but he had to try _something._

"Harry, I-" Willow choked out the words.

"Yes, Will?" Harry asked. She was dying. He knew it. She knew it. Tom Riddle knew it. Maybe Snape or Dumbledore could've saved her, but neither were present, and he'd already tried snapping Snape's emergency stick he'd given him the previous year. Apparently, not even Snape could just walk into the Chamber.

"Tell Amelia and Susan I'm sorry," she gasped out, and then Willow Potter lay motionless, her eyes staring blankly into the darkness above. Harry closed her eyes before standing back up. His baleful gaze locked onto Riddle's sardonic, triumphant smirk.

"So much for the Girl Who Lived," Riddle drawled.

Harry had no words, could not speak them, could not even form them properly. He snarled, bending down to the forgotten diary of Tom Riddle. Riddle froze.

"Wait. What are you doing?" Riddle asked.

Harry plunged the Basilisk Fang into the diary, and it spurted black ink as if bleeding. Riddle screamed in agony, and Harry couldn't even savor it. His only family was dead, once again at the hands of Lord Voldemort. No vengeance could ever restore what he'd lost, but he would have it.

* * *

_Willow_

Darkness. Nothing but darkness as far as her eyes could see. Willow couldn't even see herself, only knew she was falling, falling into a sea so pitch black that there wasn't even a glimmer of light.

Were there stars in the sky? Was it even dark out? Or had she simply fallen so far from the surface that the sun couldn't reach her? There was an odd comfort in it, in not knowing, in not being able to _do_ anything.

She'd failed as a heroine. Failed as the Girl Who Lived. How had she hoped to stand against the Dark Lord when the mere memory of his younger self had managed to best her? No, she could just keep falling. Harry could handle it. She'd been freed of choice, of consequence. Only the darkness waited for her.

She couldn't wait to tell Mom and Dad how clever Harry was, or how much he'd turned out to be a good brother to her despite their years apart and being sorted in Slytherin. She wondered if they'd been watching the whole time. At least she'd be with them now.

Her heart ached as she thought of Sue and Amelia. She hoped Harry would tell them she was sorry. Amelia had always told her (like Harry did) that she'd already vanquished Voldemort once, that she should've just lived the rest of her life the way she wanted to. Unfortunately, the way Willow wanted to live her life wound up with her sacrificing herself to defeat Slytherin's Monster.

At least now, the attacks would end, and Hogwarts could remain open despite the Dark's machinations. She felt herself close her eyes, not having been sure if they'd been opened at all, and continued to plummet. How long had she been falling? How much farther away was the afterlife?

 _Are you really giving up?_ a familiar voice asked.

 _Twilight Sparkle?_ Willow questioned. _What are you doing here? Did you die, too?_

 _As I've told you countless times,_ the voice answered, _that is not my name._

 _Well you never told me what it was,_ she protested.

Suddenly, a glimmer of light shone in front of Willow. Firelight, to be exact, burning bright enough to illuminate her surroundings. She was still falling, but the fire seemed to trail after her, matching her pace.

 _Because you did not deserve it until now,_ the voice answered. It seemed to be coming from the flame itself. _My name is Charra. Charra Zarde._

 _Well, it's good to know now, I suppose,_ Willow drawled. _Even if I am dying and all._

_Again, are you really giving up now?_

_Last I checked, Fairy Magic couldn't heal wounds,_ Willow answered.

 _I am no Fairy,_ the flame answered back. Suddenly, it grew, expanding into a vaguely humanoid shape roughly the size of a grown woman. There were no features, none that Willow could see, just the vague impression of eyes and a somber face.

Willow's eyes were wide. _Tw- Charra, what are you?_

 _I can burn away the poison,_ Charra answered. _But my flame does not discriminate. I'm afraid I will burn away your foul connection to snakes, as well._

 _You mean I'll stop being a Parselmouth?_ Willow asked. It had been a useful tool, in the end, but she wanted as little to do with the Dark Lord as possible, especially after everyone thought she was the Heir. _Why are you even asking? Get rid of it!_

_As you wish, Willow Potter._

The flaming form descended upon Willow, and though she screamed in reflex, she found only comfort and warmth in Charra's embrace.

Her eyes opened, seeing first a blazing form in front of her, the darkness of the Chamber stretching out behind it.

 _Charra?_ Willow called out.

The lilting voice of her Fairy answered. _Willow? Why do you know that name?_

Willow blinked, and saw she was not looking at the flaming spirit from her vision, but at Fawkes, who'd been standing over her wound.

 _You saved me,_ Willow communicated. _In my dream, You weren't a Fairy. You said your name was Charra Zarde._

The Fairy buzzed into Willow's line of sight. Her expression was of relief, but something hard stared at Willow from behind those small eyes. _I see. We have a lot to talk about. But first, your brother. He looks like he's about to burn the planet down in the name of vengeance. I was about to join him._

"H-Harry!" she cried out weakly.

Harry hadn't been looking at her. He'd been watching the smoldering remains of something burning. He turned in place, and the hard lines on his face softened.

* * *

_Harry_

"H-Harry!"

He turned from the remains of Tom Riddle's Diary, the Basilisk Fang still in his hand. He'd been thinking to develop a firing mechanism for the Prydwen to shoot darts coated in Basilisk Venom at his enemies when he heard a voice he thought he'd never hear again.

Before he knew what he was doing, he'd dropped the Fang and rushed forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his not-dead sister. They didn't speak, which was rare for them, he realized.

They spent so little time together (only when their friend groups weren't around) that they tended to fill that time with conversations they normally couldn't have.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered.

"Me too," she answered.

He broke the hug, gazed at the healed wound on Willow's arm, and said, "Of course. Phoenix Tears. They have healing properties. How do you feel?"

"Pretty good, considering I was dead," Willow quipped.

Despite himself, he smirked. Old habits and all. "You weren't really dead, sister. Not even Fawkes could've done that."

His sister froze for a moment. "Right. You're right. What happened to Riddle?"

"Died too soon," Harry answered. "I was trying to see how long I could keep him alive while stabbing the Fang into his diary. Hopefully, that means Ginny and Daphne are out of danger for now."

He stalked over to where the two Slytherins lay, weighed his options, and decided to hit them both with _Rennervate._ He'd figured they probably wanted their dignity intact once they exited the Chamber, and giving them time to catch up by waking them now would help. 

He eyed Theo awkwardly welcoming his sister back to the land of the living. She wasn't over his family name yet, of course, and the role his father had played in the last war, but now she'd seen him fight with them against Voldemort himself. Kind of.

"Harry?" Daphne was the first to stir.

"Good morning, Princess," he said, smirking. He'd been concerned about her, yes, but the fact was, he hadn't even known she was in danger until Riddle showed himself.

Realization seemed to crash into Daphne like a truck. "Merlin. I'm a fool. I'm so sorry, Harry. I should've-"

"No, I should've seen it," Harry cut her off. "I'm sorry. I was thinking this whole time how you were the strongest duelist in our group and how you're always so calm and collected. I didn't see what you were struggling with."

Daphne shook her head. "No, Harry. Don't you dare. You can't take everything on yourself like you always do. I was a fool. I tried to do _something_ on my own and I just-"

"Exactly," he answered, offering her a hand up. "Which is why from now on, I'm going to be relying on all of you. No more Harry Potter single-handedly orchestrating things a twelve-year-old shouldn't do."

She eyed his hand cautiously. "Are you _sure_ you're a Slytherin?"

His smirk didn't falter. "I may or may not have been offered Hufflepuff. I should've seen it as the Hat telling me to rely on my friends. And if anyone finds out about that little tidbit, I'll turn you into a statue."

To his surprise, Daphne actually smiled as she took the offered hand. "I'll hold you to that."

"We can start over the summer," Harry said, pulling her up. "I've got a few ideas John or Johanna could help with."

"Oh, goodie," Daphne said, rolling her eyes. "What is it this time? An exploding handbag?"

"No, just a few improvements over the Prydwen, though it performed really well today."

Daphne quirked an eyebrow.

"Blinded the Basilisk and Riddle, basically the only reason we're all still alive."

There was a sharp gasp to Harry's left as Ginny woke up. She took one look at where they were, who was standing over her, and then started sobbing.

Harry and Daphne shared a look, and then surprisingly, Daphne bent down and offered the girl a hug. Harry looked at her quizzically.

"I have a younger sister, you know," was her only response.

Right. He left the two of them to their devices as something nearby caught his eye: A tablet held by Slytherin's statue that listed the names of several people. After seeing the bottom name 'Tom Riddle,' Harry didn't have to guess too hard at what it was: A list of all who'd claimed Heritance of the Chamber of Secrets.

"What is it?" Willow asked, noticing his interest.

"It's likely a list of Slytherin's Heirs," Harry said.

"How can you tell?" she asked. "It looks like gibberish to me."

He shot Theo a glance.

"Same," he said. "Must be some language no one speaks."

"What're you talking about?" Daphne asked. "I can read it just fine."

"And me," Ginny said.

They all turned to Harry. Instead of giving an answer, he pointed his wand, and with what little of his magic he had left, said, " _Serpensortia._ "

The tiniest grass snake he'd ever seen appeared on the ground in a flash of light. He mentally commanded the snake to say 'tea kettle.'

" _Tea kettle,_ " it hissed. Right, so he still had it.

"Who understood that?" Harry asked, not raising his own hand. Two hands shot up: Daphne's and Ginny's. Willow's hand was down.

"Willow, is our Parseltongue gone?" Harry asked.

"You too?" she asked. Harry did not confirm or deny it. "Merlin. This is brilliant! Now people will stop thinking I'm the Heir of Slytherin!"

"We already killed the last Heir," Harry reminded her. He looked at Ginny and Daphne, who were still bundled up on the floor. "Still, it is strange."

"What's strange is how I'm still tied up by a bloody rock," Tracey protested.

Harry whirled and saw she was indeed still restrained and lying on the ground.

"Is there a way to find out if she's still under Imperius?" Harry asked Theo.

"It's a spell that has to be maintained," he answered. "Assuming Riddle really _is_ gone…" he trailed off.

Harry nodded, casting _Finite_ on Tracey's bindings. They vanished and she stood up, stretching her arms.

"I was aware of what was happening the whole time, you know," she said. "I can't believe you didn't realize I'd been Imperiused."

"It _was_ kind of weird that you weren't flirting with either Potter Twin," Theo quipped. "Though I thought you just toned it down given the gravity of the situation and all."

Theo received a hard slap for his trouble.

"Well, at least we still have Parselmouths," Harry said, eyeing Daphne and Ginny. "I dunno how we'd get out otherwise. But can the six of us make a pact?"

"Oooh. What kind of pact?" Tracey asked.

"I'm sure Dumbledore will ask, but do _not_ open the Chamber again," he said. "Let whatever secrets Salazar left here be buried no matter how much he wants us to get them."

He looked at Theo, Daphne, Tracey and Ginny, who looked back at him knowingly: He'd only said not to open the Chamber _for Dumbledore._ The Slytherins were no fools. If Tom Riddle had accessed Salazar's archives, that meant Voldemort had, and if they wanted to stand any kind of chance, they needed to know what he knew.

"Oh, I'm never coming down here again," Willow said. "Not an experience I want to relive. Believe me."

"On that we can agree, Potter," Daphne said.

They managed to get out through the combined effort of Fawkes, Harry's and Tracey's broomsticks, and Daphne's newly-acquired Parseltongue. Doubtless, Dumbledore would want to know what transpired down there, but since Willow had been occupied with the Basilisk for most of it, Harry had a lot of leeway for cherrypicking his answers.

They returned to the surface to find Hermione, Blaise, Neville and Nyx waiting with worried faces.

Harry allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He still had his work cut out for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't understand why she's named Charra Zarde, it's okay. You probably don't play Pokemon.


	21. Housekeeping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I thought I was posting Chapter 21 today. Oopsies. 
> 
> About Ginny and Daphne's Parselmouth status since I don't explain this properly in the story:
> 
> They have it because they were possessed by a stronger-than-canon version of Tom Riddle's memory. Canon Diary Tom couldn't really do much, but my Tom, if you noticed, could use Avada and a bunch of other nasty spells that are still beyond Harry's ability. After all, in Heir Regent, he possessed two witches instead of one, and Daphne is pretty powerful in her own right. 
> 
> The side effect was that his possession of them also poured a little bit of his own power into them.

They headed straight to McGonagall's office, surprised to find not only the acting headmistress, but also Arthur and Molly Weasley, and even more surprisingly though not really, Albus Dumbledore himself.

"Aha," Dumbledore said as they entered. "Right on time."

"Albus," Harry greeted with a slight nod. They'd formed quite a crowd.

"Ginny!" Molly Weasley cried out as she took her daughter in her arms. Arthur followed and wrapped an arm around both of them. One might almost have forgotten that they'd neglected her all year for being Sorted into Slytherin.

"It wasn't her fault, Albus," Harry began. "It was-"

"Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore finished for him. McGonagall, Molly, and Arthur flinched. How strange it was that only Dumbledore and the children did not fear the name. "I suspect you have quite a tale to tell."

Dumbledore waved his hand and a couch appeared. The tired students gladly took it, with Harry and Willow in the center.

"Well, technically, it was Tom Riddle," Harry said. "But I suppose to someone who knew him as a boy it makes no difference."

"It makes all the difference, Harry," Dumbledore said, not unkindly. "Tom used to be a bright boy with ambition, not so different from yourself."

"He almost killed Willow," Harry said flatly. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes faded. "Not to mention Ginny and Daphne."

"Heir Greengrass?" Dumbledore asked.

"It's alright, Daph, I can answer. You've been through a lot more than I have," Harry said.

Translation: Let me do the talking so our stories are straight.

"Daphne tried to stop Riddle herself," Harry explained. "See, she was inspired by Willow's _act of heroism_ during first year. She thought that if Willow could do it, then why not her?"

Translation: Your staging of Willow's fight versus Quirrell-mort was reckless, and almost cost a student her life, as was your awarding of House Points for seeking out danger. Maybe you should stop doing that.

Dumbledore seemed to have gotten it. "In that case, Heir Greengrass, I am deeply sorry. I did not think my awarding of House Points for the past year would have such adverse effects. I will be far more careful in the future, _after_ I award you all with fifty points each for special services rendered to the school."

Harry almost protested. It felt dirty to accept it from Dumbledore, but Slytherin was ahead in House Points anyway, and there were more Slytherins present than Gryffindors. "Thank you, Albus."

"So, what did you find?" Dumbledore asked.

"I learned I was a Parselmouth, too," Harry said. He'd specifically told Willow not to mention how long he'd known, citing it a mark of shame. She hadn't questioned it. "Riddle was surprisingly powerful for a ghost or whatever he was, but we managed to overwhelm him with numbers and ingenuity, though all would've been for naught if Fawkes hadn't arrived."

Dumbledore smiled solemnly. "Fawkes has been my steadfast friend for many years. He has yet to let me down."

"Ginny had been possessed by Tom Riddle through a diary," Harry spoke. "I presumed it was conceived by the Dark Arts."

Dumbledore did not offer an inch of information. "Almost surely."

"Though we all rather suspect the diary was planted on her by a certain Lucius Malfoy during a scuffle with Mister Weasley in Flourish and Blotts," Harry offered.

Arthur bristled. "That bastard!"

"I suspected as much," Dumbledore said.

"Did you now, Albus?" Harry asked. He glanced quickly at Molly and Arthur to see their reaction, but if they felt betrayed, they showed nothing. And Weasleys weren't exactly subtle.

"I had no evidence," Dumbledore conceded. "Though I could feel his hand behind this plot."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't dare check if Willow was actually believing all of this. 'I had no evidence' was quickly becoming code for: I could've done something about it but chose not to.

"Willow managed to take the Basilisk down using a sword she pulled from the hat," Harry offered. "I presume it's a Gryffindor relic, based off the carvings on it?"

He'd inspected the sword after their little fight to the death.

"Indeed. It is the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, which can only be pulled out by someone true to his House."

No reaction to the Monster's name. So he _had_ known the Monster was a Basilisk. Sly, manipulative old coot. 

"There wouldn't happen to be a Sword of Salazar Slytherin I could have, would there?" Harry asked, only half joking.

Dumbledore beamed at him. "I'm afraid not, Harry. Only Godric Gryffindor saw fit to leave his relic for future generations."

Harry did not point out that Salazar had left an entire library of knowledge and a living murder weapon for his descendants. "Anyway, the Basilisk managed to wound her, and I'm sure you know what _that_ means, but Fawkes got to her in time."

Dumbledore's face looked apologetic. "I am sorry, Willow, to have risked your life not once, but twice in as many years."

Harry interrupted before Willow said something about forgiving Dumbledore for the greater good or some other tripe that would likely piss Harry off.

"I then used the Basilisk's own venom to destroy the diary, since nothing else seemed to work. It seemed fitting, honestly."

"So the Diary was destroyed by your hand, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. He seemed surprisingly interested.

"Yes," Harry answered. "Willow was recovering from the venom at the time."

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "I would like to have a word with Harry and Willow, if the rest of you wouldn't mind."

The Slytherins looked to Harry (he wasn't sure exactly _when_ that had started feeling normal) and he nodded, as if just agreeing to Dumbledore's proposal and not actually giving his circle permission to leave him with Dumbledore.

Even McGonagall left, which was a bit ridiculous considering it was _her_ office.

"I'll cut right to the chase," Dumbledore said once they were alone. "Willow, can you still open the Chamber of Secrets?"

Willow shook her head. It probably helped that she wasn't lying. "No, sir. After the Basilisk Venom was purged from by body, I found I'd lost my ability to speak to snakes."

"What about you, Harry?"

"Unfortunately, my abilities seemed to have vanished along with Willow's," Harry lied. "Professor, _why_ were we Parselmouths in the first place?"

"I cannot be sure, Harry," Dumbledore said. "But I suspect on the night Lord Voldemort attacked you as infants, he accidentally, unknowingly put part of his own power into you, though it is surprising that both of you would receive it, when Willow was the one who absorbed the brunt of his spell."

"Perhaps mine was merely an echo of hers?" Harry offered. "After all, I lost it when she did, and the Basilisk Venom was nowhere near me."

It was interesting conjecture for why Ginny and Daphne seemed to have learned Parseltongue. He wondered if theirs would fade with time, too. Perhaps there was a way to make it not go away.

"It is plausible," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. "It is a pity that Salazar Slytherin's lore seems forever lost to us, but perhaps it's for the best. Now, whatever Dark secrets lay in his archives will be buried forever."

"Unless Voldemort willingly parts with it," Harry said in jest.

Dumbledore chuckled. "If Lord Voldemort were so charitable, all our problems would disappear like pudding on Christmas day.” 

“Professor,” Willow began, “What about Hagrid?”

Dumbledore smiled solemnly. “He’ll be back any minute now, I suspect. I managed to convince Fudge to send him to Nurmengard instead of Azkaban.”

He gave Harry a knowing look that said ‘How’s that for pulling strings for Hagrid?’ It was a clear attempt at trying to win Harry’s favor after their previous discussion concerning Hagrid’s expulsion.

“Is that much better?” Harry asked, an honest question. He’d heard little of Nurmengard, only that it was once Gellert Grindelwald’s base of operations, turned into his prison after his defeat at Dumbledore’s hands. He’d kind of assumed it was _worse_ if that’s where Dumbledore kept his greatest foe.

“Nurmengard doesn’t have Dementors,” Dumbledore explained. “It is uncomfortable, certainly, but our dear Rubeus will return to us with both body and mind intact.”

Hm. So Dumbledore had put his nemesis, the previous Dark Lord, somewhere that didn't have dementors. Harry would have to look into that.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Willow said. “Dementors are nasty. Amelia tells me stories. I hope I never have to see one.”

“By the way, speaking of absent staff,” Dumbledore said, “would either of you know what happened to Gilderoy? We can't seem to find him."

"We spotted him fleeing the castle," Harry said, technically not a lie. "I believe the staff had coerced him into taking on the Basilisk, and he was having none of it."

"I see," Dumbledore muttered. "I suppose I'll have to do something about the Defense Finals, the-"

The door swung open abruptly, and Lucius Malfoy strode through, as furious as Harry had ever seen him. His eyes swept across the room, landing on Harry, then Willow, and finally Dumbledore.

"I was under the impression you'd been suspended," Lucius hissed. Harry wondered about that, too. Dumbledore's return seemed far too well-timed.

"When the Governors heard a girl had been taken, they insisted on my immediate return to the position," Dumbledore explained. "It seemed quite a few of them were under the impression you would curse their families if they didn't sign your petition for my suspension. You may rest knowing your son's attacker has been brought to justice."

"I see," Lucius practically growled. "Who was it then? Who was responsible?"

"Lord Voldemort, who acted through the use of this," Dumbledore said flatly, pointing at the Diary on McGonagall’s desk. "Though I suspect he had assistance from his old followers."

Harry spotted a shape moving just outside the doorway, pointing frantically at Lucius Malfoy. He instantly recognized it as Dobby. He made the slightest nod. It all made sense now: Why Dobby was trying to warn them, how he'd said he was mistreated. It made a lot of sense, indeed.

He shot his sister a glance, seeing she'd seen him, too. It was a look that said 'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?'

Was this what Fred and George had all the time?

Lucius’ face was impassive.

"One hopes that no more of Voldemort’s old school things should find their way into innocent hands," the old wizard answered. "The consequences for whoever is responsible would be severe."

Lucius took the hint and drove the conversation in a different direction. "What of my son?"

"Professor Sprout tells me the restorative draught should be ready by this afternoon. I suspect young Draco will be right as rain."

Lucius nodded, spared the twins a glance. "Potters," he said before gliding out of the room.

"Professor," Willow said, "I believe Lord Malfoy forgot something."

She held up the tattered Diary for Dumbledore to see. He nodded approval, a knowing half-smile on his face.

Harry watched with disguised amusement as Willow took off her left sock, placed it inside the Diary, and then sped off to catch up to Lucius Malfoy. He kept his wand ready, but he knew Dumbledore wouldn't let Willow come to harm _now_ after surviving Tom Riddle.

"Say, Albus," Harry said, keeping his eyes on his sister and Lucius, "You knew what that diary was, didn't you?"

"I had my suspicions." Translation: Pretty much, yeah.

Harry sighed. "His return to power is inevitable, isn't it?"

"Do not say such things, Harry," Dumbledore said. "We must hold out hope that such a foul evil will never rise again."

"Hope has its uses," Harry answered. "Hope was what kept me going during my long years with the Dursleys."

"Then you understand-"

"I understand," Harry interrupted with some bite. "That hope has its place. Hope is for when you're in a situation where you're helpless, where your only option is to bear it and wait for salvation. I am not in such a position, Albus. Measures can be taken, plans can be drawn. If you know a storm is coming, you don't just wait for it to come and hope for the best. You make sure the house is sturdy, that your loved ones are safe. This isn't a time for hope, but preparation."

If Dumbledore had anything to say to that, Harry never found out, because Willow had finally reached Lucius Malfoy.

"Excuse me, Mister Malfoy," Willow said, sounding as sincere as Harry had ever heard her. “I think you forgot this.”

He took small delight when Lucius seemed insulted she hadn’t referred to him as ‘Lord Malfoy.’

“Mine? I don’t know what you mean,” Lucius drawled, pretending to inspect the Diary.

“Oh, I think you do,” Willow answered. “I think you slipped this into Ginny Weasley’s cauldron, that day at Flourish and Blotts.”

Malfoy’s gaze was deadly, like a snake who’d been stepped on. “You do, do you? Why don’t you prove it?”

Willow stared Malfoy down, refusing to yield an inch to the older wizard who likely could’ve killed her in his sleep. Malfoy broke eye contact first, whirling to leave. “Come,Dobby.”

He tossed the diary to the House-Elf, who easily caught it.

Harry spotted Willow whispering something to Dobby. The House-Elf opened the Diary, finding the sock within.

“Dobby?” Lucius called.

“Master has given Dobby a sock!” Dobby said in astonishment. “Master has presented Dobby with clothes! Dobby is free!”

Lucius glared at Willow. “You. Lost. Me. My. Servant!” His hand reached for the head of his cane, pulling it out to reveal a wand. Harry turned to Dumbledore, who seemed to have noticed nothing.

Harry sprang to his feet, but he was too far away.

 _Nyx, blind him or something!_ he commanded.

She hadn’t needed to.

“You shall not harm Willow Potter!” Dobby declared before snapping his fingers.

Lucius went sailing through the air as if hit with the strongest Knockback Jinx Harry had ever seen. He managed to pick himself up, and hissed a final threat to Willow before storming off.

 _Should I blind him anyway?_ Nyx asked.

 _Leave him be for now,_ Harry answered. _I’ve managed to avoid making any new enemies this year._

_Thanks to me Glamouring you in the hallways._

_Can't argue with that._

Harry arrived just in time to hear Dobby say, “Willow Potter freed Dobby. How can Dobby ever repay her?”

“Just promise you’ll never try to save my-” Willow began, then stopped. “No, that’s stupid. Next time, just warn me if you know something instead of trying to get me maimed.”

Dobby grinned sheepishly at her.

“Well, I for one,” Harry added, “Would appreciate a little bit of help with some extracurricular projects, since you’re free now and all. I’ll even pay you.”

“Dobby would be honored, Harry Potter.”

“I swear you’re going to empty our vault before we graduate,” Willow protested.

Harry just smirked. She had no idea how much he was dropping at Carriage in the summer now that he knew his combat trunk was a viable tool for keeping the both of them alive.

* * *

Despite their exhaustion from the day's activities, Harry and Willow made the Hospital Wing their next stop. Harry had insisted on Daphne, Tracey and Ginny getting diagnosed just to make sure no lingering effects remained from Tom Riddle’s influence. Ginny and Daphne both becoming Parselmouths hinted that there might’ve been, and Harry hoped he’d never have to fight one of his friends for real again. Their other friends had gone along to make sure the three girls actually went to Madam Pomfrey.

They were all gathered outside the Hospital Wing when the Potters arrived.

“Madam Pompfrey didn’t let you in?” Harry asked. He noted Daphne, Ginny, and Tracey were missing, indicating they were inside.

“She said it was too crowded,” Theo answered. “Think you can change her mind?”

Harry snorted. “Leave it to me.”

A minute later, their entire group was inside, talking in hushed voices about the morning’s activities. Harry had managed to use his pull with Madam Pomfrey to let his friends in with only minimal protest.

Daphne, Ginny and Tracey were sitting on one bed, quietly whispering to each other. It was as if their lives had never been in danger.

“You’re having girl talk without Hermione?” Blaise teased as they approached.

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly at a loss for words for once.

“More of an I-Survived-You-Know-Who club,” Tracey said, grinning as sharply as ever. 

“Did Madam Pomfrey find anything?” Harry asked.

“Nope,” Ginny and Tracey answered. Daphne just shook her head.

Translation: Nope, not even the Parselmouth thing. As far as Pomfrey (and therefore the school) knew, they were back to normal.

Which, of course, meant there were now at least three people who could access the Chamber of Secrets. Harry would have to converse with Daphne and Ginny at length about that later.

“You’re really alright?” Willow asked Ginny.

“I’m fine, Will. Just tired,” Ginny answered with the hint of a smirk. “Like I’ve been sucked dry by some kind of ghost.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile. She’d come a long way from being the girl who couldn’t even talk to him or his sister without flushing scarlet and running off.

“Has Ron visited?” Willow asked.

“All of them tried, but Madam Pomfrey turned them away,” Ginny answered. “Said if they really wanted to talk to me they could do it after I got out.”

“Well, we should probably go, shouldn’t we?” Harry offered. Daphne shot him a meaningful glance. He gave her the barest of nods. “Seeing as how nothing seems to be wrong with any of us.”

“Sure you don’t want to chuck a Wiggenweld while we’re here?” Willow teased.

“Sister, I’m hurt. What do you think I am, some sort of Wiggenweld addict?” Harry drawled, but he’d already downed one of Madam Pomfrey’s Pick-Me-Ups when he’d come inside to ask if they could enter.

As the group shuffled out, Harry bent down to re-tie his shoelaces, with Daphne lingering behind, seeming to wait for him. Rather annoyingly, his sister lingered, too. He was about to tell her he’d be out in a second when Neville put a hand on her shoulder.

“Will, that’s Slytherin for ‘We need to have a talk in private,’” Neville explained. “Come on and let them have their clandestine conversation in peace.”

Willow’s eyes widened in realization and let Neville pull her out. Neville only shot Harry a wink, and before Harry could react, he and Daphne were alone in a corner of the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, I just remembered I should go check the stores if we have enough Boil-Cure Potion,” Harry said aloud. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Daphne seemed to barely stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Not at all.”

She followed him to the Hospital Wing’s Stores and shut the door behind them.

“ _Quietus,_ ” Harry incanted at the door, and a silencing screen muffled their voices from reaching the outside. “I’d say we have two minutes before someone comes back in to check on us.”

Daphne nodded, idly studying the various Potions on their various shelves. Few students ever came in here, so it was no surprise she’d be curious. “It’s not my place, since I’m not the Head yet, but House Greengrass owes you a life debt, and I’m sure my parents will honor that.”

He thought of deflecting the statement and saying he’d only done what any friend would, but this was _Daphne._ Refusal probably would’ve gotten him hexed in the name of House Greengrass' honor, not to mention Daphne had gone off to stop Riddle on her own _because_ she’d felt she was doing a bad job of representing her House in the first place. “Afraid you’ll have to elaborate, Daph. Raised by muggles and all.”

That time she actually rolled her eyes, but favored him with a thin smile. “It means you can count on House Greengrass to come to House Potter’s aid, until the day we feel our debt has been repaid. Mother and Father will likely wish to meet over the summer for formality, but I thought I’d tell you in advance.”

Harry smiled back. “ _I thought Houssse Greengrasss and Potter were already alliesss,_ ” he said in Parseltongue.

Daphne looked unsure for a second, as if trying to remember a language she’d only attended a few classes for, then answered, also in Parseltongue, “ _Wasss kind of unsssure about hierarchy. Thought I could sssurpass Pottersss, but wasss wrong._ ”

“ _Don’t be sssilly, Daph,_ ” Harry said. “ _You are better duelissst. Better at politicsss. Much better fashion sssense. Now, you’re even a Ssspeaker, where Willow isss not anymore._ ”

“ _Thanksss, Harry,_ ” she said, breaking eye contact and looking at her shoes. 

“ _Did not do it for thanksss,_ ” Harry answered. “ _You are dear friend of mine. But do me a favor._ ”

“ _Yesss?_ ”

“ _Keep Chamber sssecret for now. Can explore lossst lore of Sssalazar in future. Riddle taught me wordsss to claim Heritance._ ”

“He did _what?_ ” she asked in English.

“ _Ssspeak in Parssseltongue,_ ” Harry reminded her, just in case anyone was listening. Having to explain the Parseltongue was one thing, that he might be the new Heir of Slytherin was another. “ _Traded me information for knowledge of Dark Lord’sss defeat. Thought it would not matter becaussse I would die, but he lossst that gamble._ ”

“ _Clever boy._ ”

“ _Willow hasss her giftsss, I have mine,_ ” Harry answered. “ _You are not sssurprised I am still Ssspeaker?_ ”

“ _Not at all._ ” She grinned at him. “ _Wasss fairly obviousss to anyone not in Gryffindor, but do not know why._ ”

“ _Nor do I,_ ” he admitted. “ _Posssible dissstant relation to Gaunt family. Will have to check genealogy. Do not know how Sssister lossst hersss, but it isss convenient._ ”

“ _We ssshould go,_ ” Daphne said.

" _One thing while we're here,_ " Harry hissed. " _Why attack Draco and Pansssy?_ "

Daphne met the question with a steely gaze. " _Riddle wasss going after Hermione. Wasss all I could do to redirect Sssnake at our enemiesss. Draco wasss target, but I guess Pansssy was there, too._ "

That had not been his guess. " _Ssso you didn't intend to caussse infighting among Death Eatersss?_ "

Her eyes widened just a bit. " _Ssshit. You're right. Did not think. If they find out Luciusss' plan went out of control-_ "

" _It worked out,_ " Harry told her. " _Now they'll be lesss keen to try sssomething like thisss again. But we've been here long enough. Sssay sssomething normal._ "

Daphne nodded. "So, you think we'll win the House Cup after all that?"

“Possibly,” Harry answered. “Don’t count your chicks before they hatch. I’ve got a few more stops I have to make before the day ends but none of them are for that.”

* * *

_Willow_

The two of them walked to Hagrid’s Hut on the now-familiar path that took them longer than the one people normally used, not that they needed to hide or anything. The whole school would be aware that both Potters (and their friends) had done something to stop the attacks by dinner, and that meant pretending she and Harry weren't on good terms was pointless. Slytherin and Gryffindor would just have to deal with it.

She’d seen his friends in action, too: All capable witches and wizards who were as fiercely loyal to him as she was to her own friends. They just took this path for the sake of old habits, and because she really needed to have a conversation with Charra.

 _So you’re actually not a Fairy?_ she asked.

 _No,_ Charra Zarde answered. She still very much looked like a Fairy. _It is merely the guise I take._

 _What are you then?_ Willow questioned.

 _I am a spirit of fire,_ Charra explained. _The Ancient Greeks called us Heliopaths, but to me, I am fire, plain and simple. The name means nothing._

 _I’ve never heard of your people,_ Willow communicated. _Not that I’m a magizoology expert or anything._

_Few have. Fewer still have seen us. We prefer it that way._

_But you can use Glamours, just like a Fairy._

The fire spirit grinned. _And now you know why wizards have not been able to prove our existence._

_Why were you in my dream? Before I was revived?_

_I don’t know,_ Charra answered. _Nor do I know why I was drawn to you in the first place, or why you can manipulate fire as you do. I feel like I know you, Willow Potter, though why that is, I do not know._

 _Did you actually burn my Parseltongue away?_ Willow asked. _It was the bargain you offered in the dream. My life in exchange for my Parseltongue._

 _Possibly,_ Charra said. _It’s certainly something I would do, if I could._

_You have something against it? I just didn’t want to be mistaken for the Heir of Slytherin._

_It gives sentience to creatures who otherwise would not have it,_ Charra explained. 

_I don’t see how that’s bad._

_A snake lives its life without thinking of death or even tomorrow, but when a Parselmouth speaks to a snake, suddenly it understands the concept of death and the futility of its own life. It’s unnatural and cruel._

Willow stared in wide-eyed horror. She’d never thought of it that way before. All those summoned serpents she’d used to scout the Dark Forest had obeyed her with the knowledge that their lives would expire within the day once the spell ran out.

 _We’re here,_ Charra Zarde told her.

Willow blinked and found that she was standing in front of Hagrid’s Hut. She gathered her wits and knocked gently on the door.

* * *

_Harry_

Harry thought Hagrid looked as well as he’d been before being shipped off to Nurmengard, but then, the Keeper of Grounds and Keys had only been away for a day at most. He wondered what Fudge was going to say about it. It’d probably be on the front page of the Prophet.

“Willow! Harry!” he greeted them warmly. “Is it jus’ the two o’ ye?”

“Everyone else is resting after all the stuff that happened today,” Harry said.

“It’s good to have you back, Hagrid,” Willow added.

“Come in, come in,” Hagrid said. “I’ll fix ye some tea.”

“Yes, please,” Harry said, following the big man in.

Once they had cups of tea in their hands, Harry gave Hagrid the short version of how they’d followed his advice and met Aragog whom Harry had made friends with, and then how they’d had to team up to defeat the shade of Tom Riddle.

Hagrid had flinched at the mention of that name harder than most people did at the mention of ‘Voldemort.’

“So, you saved everyone, then,” Hagrid said.”Tha’s good.”

“The Petrified victims will be cured by dinner according to Madam Pomfrey,” Harry added. “And now no one can enter the Chamber, not that there’s any more monsters in there.”

He hoped. Actually, he should probably make sure. Theoretically, if there _was_ another Monster it’d obey him once he took control of the Chamber, so he should probably get on that before he left for the summer.

“I’m glad ye made friends with Aragog,” Hagrid said. “Think he’s lonely ou’ there.”

Harry hadn’t mentioned how Aragog had tried to feed them to his brood. “Actually, I promised to send him and his kids a few treats every month. You think you could check if he’s getting them?”

Hagrid grinned. “Oh, tha’s really nice o’ ye. O’ course I’d be happy to check up on ‘em.”

“Good. Could we check on them now?” Harry asked. He wanted to make sure Aragog knew they’d killed Riddle and the Basilisk, even if technically Harry had only killed Riddle.

“Are you mad?” Willow asked. “I wanted to take a nap before dinner!”

“Well, you don’t _have_ to come, sis,” Harry reminded her. “I’ll be in Hagrid’s care.”

She looked at him as if about to protest before she shook her head and muttered something about him being a tireless Wiggenweld addict.

* * *

After Willow left for the castle and Harry downed another vial of Wiggenweld, he, Hagrid, and Fang made the trip back to Aragog’s hollow. It was a bit faster than the last trip, given Hagrid knew where he was going, had longer legs, and Harry opted to ride his Nimbus 2001 the whole way while Hagrid walked beneath him, so they reached the edge of the hollow at about four in the afternoon.

 _Screen me if they attack,_ Harry told Nyx.

_Like you need to tell me._

_I don’t, but it makes me feel safe._

_Flatterer._

“Aragog?” Hagrid called out. “You ‘ere?”

“Hagrid?” Aragog’s voice came from the hollow. His hulking form came soon after.

“Yep, it’s me,” Hagrid said. “Brought ye somethin’.”

Hagrid stepped forward, heedless of the dozens if not hundreds of other Acromantulas in the hollow, and deposited a couple of pheasants he’d brought from his Shack.

Harry quirked an eyebrow. Did Aragog not recognize Hagrid or- In the brighter afternoon light, Harry saw that Aragog’s eyes were milky white. Oh. He’d been blind the whole time. He wondered if he could do anything about that, to ensure the Acromantula Colony’s loyalty.

“Ah, you are a true friend, Hagrid,” the Acromantula spoke, stepping forth to accept the offering. Now that Harry had sunlight, he could see Aragog wasn’t as large as he’d thought - perhaps the size of a small elephant, which was, of course, still pretty large.

“I’m here as well, great Aragog.” Harry said.

“Harry Potter?” the great spider asked. “You’ve returned from your quest?”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the phrasing. “Indeed, great Aragog. I’ve brought your enemy’s Fang and Hagrid’s return from prison as proof.”

“Keep it hidden,” the spider hissed. “We do not want its venom anywhere near us.”

“Of course.” He’d kept it in the ingredients section of his trunk for that very reason. He should probably go back and do what he can to preserve the Basilisk’s body before he left for Privet Drive, actually.

“You’ve performed a great service for our colony,” Aragog said. “And me. From now on, our colony shall treat you as our ally, Harry Potter. Your enemies shall be our enemies.”

“And my friends?” Harry asked.

Aragog chuckled. “Wise as ever, young one. Very well, your friends shall be our friends. They shall not come to harm within our forest.”

“That’s great news, innit, Harry?” Hagrid asked. “Now yer friends with Aragog, too.”

“It is,” Harry said simply. He wondered idly if Hagrid understood the gravity of a second year student essentially making a pact with a Dark creature. Probably not, though he couldn’t help but be impressed at how much Aragog respected Hagrid anyway.

They bade Aragog farewell and Harry returned to the castle.

* * *

The Great Hall buzzed with chatter and commotion as Harry and his circle entered. He would've been lying if he said he didn't feel like part of the excitement was directed towards them. At least a bit of it, anyway. Tracey grinned in triumph at him as they took their seats at the now-mixed first and second year section of the Slytherin table.

 _Of course_ she'd worked the rumor mill into a frenzy as soon as they'd parted ways. Even the older Slytherins from the third year section and above were giving them respectful nods. The Basilisk may not have attacked anyone from the upper years (which was kind of weird, in hindsight) but it _was_ fact that the Potters and their friends had just stopped the school from shutting down.

"Specifics?" Harry asked as he cut himself a side of steak for his own plate. He felt ravenous.

"Just enough," Tracey answered. 

Harry nodded. So no one knew what actually happened beyond that a bunch of second years had somehow vanquished the Heir of Slytherin and their Monster, winning two hundred and fifty House Points for Slytherin in the process. Gryffindor had only gotten a hundred and fifty for Willow, Neville, and Hermione: Another tangible benefit to keeping Ronald in the dark.

"Do you reckon that-" Harry began, but was interrupted by a sudden shift as almost everyone in the Great Hall turned to face the doors.

The Gryffindor House Ghost, Nearly-Headless Nick, floated into the Great Hall, exchanging warm greetings with everyone.

Pansy, and surprisingly, Justin, trailed in his wake, all walking towards the Slytherin table. Harry spotted a nervous-looking younger Gryffindor sneaking in after them to go back to his own table. Idly, he wondered how things would go for that one. He'd been petrified two months into the school year on his first year, _and_ he was Muggle-born.

Maybe he'd try to nudge Hermione or Neville into helping the kid out. Or maybe the kid could go stay back a year if that was an option. 

The thought vanished as Pansy approached and took her place like nothing had ever happened.

"Back in the realm of the living, are we?" Blaise quipped.

Pansy didn't immediately answer. Harry knew her well enough to recognize one of her tells: She was clearly in shock that the Monster had attacked her and Draco. He weighed his options. Discord among the Death Eaters would only help him while he prepared measures against Voldemort's return, but it would be bad if he let on more than he wanted the rest of the school to know.

He also had to consider the option of taking advantage of Pansy's vulnerable state to lower her social standing a few pegs, but that seemed too much like something a Malfoy would do, and despite how he knew she was trying to get dirt on him, Pansy _was_ still in their Study Group.

No, he reminded himself. He said he'd trust in his very capable friends for schemes instead of trying to pull them all off himself, and he meant it. Too many plots over the year had worn him down. He'd delegate dealing with Pansy over to Daphne and Tracey.

"Oh come now, Blaise," Harry said calmly. "Anyone would need a moment to recover from what she's been through."

His friends took the hint and eased off. Pansy eyed Harry like he was about to hex her the moment he got her alone.

"Where's Malfoy?" Harry asked, though he suspected he was with Lucius.

Pansy took a few seconds before finally answering. "His father needed him for a moment."

Harry nodded thanks for the information. "Good to have you back, Pansy."

"Oh good, is it my turn?" Justin asked pointedly.

Harry smirked. "Oh, hey, Justin. What're you doing over at the Slytherin table?"

"I thought this was where I got my honorary Slytherin membership card," Justin quipped. "Having been petrified by your Monster and all."

The first and second year Slytherins snickered. It was good to have Justin back, even if it _was_ just in time for Finals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) A Heliopath is one of Luna's creatures. Like Snorkacks and Wrackspurts, their existence has never been proven, but she describes them as spirits of fire, and I thought that was really fitting for someone who bends fire to her will. No, I cannot confirm or deny whether Minister Fudge has an army of them.  
> 2.) Charra's being not actually a Fairy was foreshadowed by how Nyx said she "smells like something burning, which is weird for a fairy" and how Willow complained she hadn't been able to use magic in over a week during her rescue of Harry from Privet Drive. Harry had only been drained for three days when he made a pact with Nyx, and he'd done that when he was much weaker than Willow during first year. It didn't get focused on because Harry didn't stay in Bones Manor, but Willow actually had no magic for almost a month.  
> 3.) Since we're near the end of Year 2, I should start talking about Year 3. Harry Potter and the Great Horror is currently in production. I'm not very far in, unfortunately, because my editor finally came back to me about the (very bad, I'm not exaggerating for once) first draft of my novel so I've been splitting attention between the two. Currently, the school year for Year 3 hasn't started yet, but as you've probably guessed from Heir Regent, my Harry has very busy summers.  
> 4.) By the way, I've been curious, but how the heck do you people keep finding this series? Firestarter is probably like, on Page 50+ of the Harry Potter fandom by now, but I keep getting new readers. Just curious, sorry. This is the first time I've had a popular fic.


	22. A Boy and His Tree House

He'd always fancied the idea of a tree house - a hiding spot that was home yet away from home, where he could go and not be bothered. A sanctuary where he could be alone, pursue his hobbies in peace, and hang up a sign that said "No Dursleys Allowed."

It's just that some tree houses were little shacks built atop actual trees. Harry's tree house was a centuries-old secret chamber in the depths of a magical school.

Assuming Riddle hadn't lied about how to claim the Chamber and Salazar's legacy, of course.

Despite his assurances to his friends not to scheme on his own anymore, Harry had come down the pipe with only Nyx by his side, though this time he'd ridden his broom down instead of letting gravity do all the work.

The Chamber was as well-lit as it had been before, and he idly wondered if the light fixtures just never ran out.

 _"Avis."_ A flock of canaries appeared in midair, and Harry sent them to scout as much of the chamber as they could. The Chamber strangely hadn't seemed warded during their last visit, but if _he'd_ been Salazar, he would've placed a few nasty surprises for potential intruders.

He was honestly surprised and rather disappointed when all five canaries came back without a single scratch on them. Maybe Salazar believed his reputation was enough to keep raiders out of his chamber. Or maybe he didn't think anyone who wasn't his heir would be smart enough to get inside in the first place.

Rather than dispel the bird conjurations, Harry enlarged them and transformed their heads into vipers'. Didn't hurt to be prepared. Actually, on that note.

 _"Serpensortia."_ A boa constrictor unfurled itself. _"Engorgio."_ And then grew to the size of a green anaconda.

It was no Basilisk, but it would hopefully hold any leftover defenses he ran into long enough for him to either strategize or run away.

As for the actual Basilisk, its body still lay lifeless next to the statue of Salazar. He'd probably have to cast Preservation, Hardening, and Freezing charms on it to keep it from decaying. Maybe it'd fit in the Prydwen if he shrunk it enough?

 _Smell anything?_ Harry asked both Nyx and the giant boa.

_Nope._

" _Nothing, Ssspeaker._ "

He nodded and let the disposable giant snake lead the way. The flying viper-canaries hovered overhead, ready to intercept attackers. They crossed the length of the Chamber and Harry still didn't find any kind of deterrent for intruders. Did Salazar really think that secrecy would keep his legacy from outsiders? When he'd already boasted about how he'd placed a secret chamber inside Hogwarts?

"Well, I'm finally here," Harry said to the Statue when he'd made it all the way to the other side. "You told me to find it during my Sorting, but I've been a little busy."

The Statue did not respond. Obviously.

" _I claim my heritance as Parssselmouth,_ " Harry hissed at the stone effigy. "Asss one who bearsss your gift and ssspeaks to sssnakes."

" _Welcome, Ssspeaker,_ " a voice spoke from behind him. Harry's wand whipped out immediately, but it turned out not to matter.

Looming before him, its head poking out of the floor, was the pearly white echo of Salazar's Basilisk. Harry immediately closed his eyes. It might've been a ghost, but he remembered how it had managed to petrify Nearly-Headless Nicholas and didn't want to take his chances.

" _Clossse your eyesss, pleassse,_ " Harry said.

" _I have no eyesss,_ " the Basilisk answered. " _You dessstroyed them, remember? With your metal objectsss and your fiery bird._ "

Oh, right. It didn't have to say it like _that_ but he supposed it was fair. He and his sister _had_ killed it, after all.

" _Sssorry about that,_ " Harry answered, cracking a single eye open. " _You were going to kill usss._ "

The Basilisk shook its head. It was indeed missing its eyes. " _It wasss a fair kill, and I wasss going to kill you both, asss ordered by Heir Regent._ "

" _I had a feeling you were intelligent._ " He paused, choosing his words carefully. " _But how come you were just hisssing about murdering and ripping people the whole time?_ "

" _I am-_ " the giant snake ghost stopped, corrected itself. " _I wasss part of inheritance. Would ssserve Heir. To ensssure compliance, Creator bound me with ssspell. Mind reflectsss Heir'sss. Regent wasss unssstable ssso I wasss unssstable._ "

" _And right now?_ "

" _No Heir in cassstle. Mind isss my own._ "

" _Would I ssstill get you if I claimed Heritance?_ "

" _Maybe, but cannot kill enemiesss in thisss form, essspecially with eyesss gone. Cannot even petrify anymore._ "

" _I said I was sorry._ "

The Basilisk made a sound that Harry realized was the snake equivalent of snickering. " _Regardlesss, cannot leave cassstle. Essspecially now that I'm a ghossst._ "

Harry blinked. " _You're trapped here?_ "

" _Have alwaysss been trapped,_ " the Basilisk answered. " _Purpossse is to guide Heirsss of Creator. Even in death, I ssserve. Creator ensssured I would leave ghossst if ssslain._ "

" _Ssso, how do I go about putting my name on the tablet?_ "

" _Isss sssimple. Place hand on tablet._ "

" _That'sss it?_ "

" _Tablet will only react to sssuitable Heir,_ " the Basilisk explained. " _If you were not true Heir, I would kill you, but, well…_ "

Harry nodded. The tablet was a ways up, so he commanded the giant constrictor to let him climb aboard its head and then lift him up so he could touch it.

 _You are riding a giant snake,_ Nyx communicated. _After talking to the ghost of a murderous monster._

 _Why do you think I wanted to do this alone?_ Harry asked as he ascended.

_You're starting to remind me of the villain from that movie we watched. What was his name? Jafar?_

Harry snorted. _Bite me if I ever start Transfiguring myself into a snake._

If Nyx had any more clever remarks, she kept them to herself because he'd finally reached the tablet. He'd been about to place his hand on it when he stopped, realized that was stupid, and started casting every detection charm he knew.

The tablet showed no signs of being enchanted in any way, which didn't make him feel any better considering how it was _clearly_ spelled to write down the names of the people who claimed Slytherin's inheritance.

Did he really want to risk his life for this? There was a more-than-zero percent chance that touching the tablet would trigger some kind of Indiana Jones trap that'd kill him, and thus would end the short-lived tomb-raiding career of Harry James Potter.

No. There were ways to minimize the damage. For starters, if it was some sort of contact curse that would work its way through his body, he could cut an arm off if that's what it took to stay alive. Giant falling rocks could be held back by the enlarged constrictor. He'd probably be fine.

He pulled his wand arm back and instead approached the tablet with his left hand, just in case.

 _You are insane,_ Nyx told him.

" _You are taking way too long,_ " the Basilisk added. " _I already sssaid I didn't harbor ill will for killing me._ "

Harry heaved a sigh and placed his hand on the tablet. He immediately drew it back as a hot, pricking sensation struck his hand. He readied his wand to cast _Diffindo_ with as much force as he could muster-

And then realized it was literally a small prickle on his index finger. So, instead he fixed it up with _Episkey_ and watched as a drop of his blood flowed down the tablet, finding its place beneath Tom Riddle's.

Suddenly, the ground began to tremble, and Harry quickly urged the constrictor to put him down.

" _Sssomething isss wrong,_ " the Basilisk hissed. " _Young one, you are of Pure Blood, yesss_?"

Oh. _Oh._ Shit. " _No I am not, _" Harry hissed. "_ Mother wasss Muggle-born. Why didn't you sssay anything sssooner?_"

The ground continued to shake, and Harry saw multiple shapes falling from the ceiling, gathering in the center of the room-

 _Snakes!_ Nyx warned him.

" _Fool! Why would Heir of Ssslytherin be Half-blood?_ " the Basilisk asked. " _You mussst flee! Ssserpents will fall from the sssky until you are dead._ "

Seeing the growing mass of snakes in the center, Harry was inclined to believe it. He wasn't sure he could command that many, Parselmouth or no. " _How do I ssstop it?_ "

Three of his flying vipers had been incapacitated by falling snakes, and the remaining two couldn't do much about it.

" _In center of Chamber isss Ark of Ssslytherin,_ " it said. " _Magical device. Infinite ssserpents. Only Creator could command sssuch number._ "

" _Duro,_ " Harry incanted, pointing at the constrictor. The surface of its skin turned stone-like, but not its insides. Just enough to make it hard to bite, but still able to move, if a bit sluggishly. " _Contain the ssswarm. I will ssstop them._ "

A moment later, he was kicking off the ground on his Nimbus 2001 as the enlarged, stone-skinned constrictor began to crush the smaller serpents with its body.

" _Lumos._ " A light flashed to life on the tip of his wand, providing some visibility in the darkened upper reaches of the Chamber of Secrets, but it wasn't nearly enough. He swore. If the Ark wasn't stopped, it would flood the entire Chamber with snakes, rendering it unusable. Hell, there was no guarantee the tide of serpents wouldn't find its way up to the castle.

He willed the remaining two canary-vipers to fly in front of him to screen against falling snakes.

Suddenly, a bright, white form emerged from beneath, brighter than the feeble light on Harry'd wand. The Basilisk's ghost floated through the air as if swimming, and Harry mentally kicked himself for not thinking that a ghost could float, even if it _was_ a primordial serpent monster.

" _The Ark should be clossse,_ " it hissed. " _You will need to disssable the magical fire that stokesss the ssserpents out of the Ark._ "

" _The what?_ "

" _Ark isss only producer of endlesss ssserpents. Fire isss what causesss them to leave their cradle._ "

What a crude device for someone as distinguished as Salazar Slytherin. Then again, the infinite conjuration of something in itself was kind of a big deal. If he could repurpose the device so all of the serpents were bound to him, like with _Sepensortia…_

The sight of the 'Ark of Slytherin' broke Harry out of his thoughts: A stone sarcophagus with what looked like three serpentine heads jutting out of three of its sides floated ominously in the center of the darkened ceiling. Each head acted like a gargoyle fountain one might find on a distinguished church, except instead of water, they spewed out a flood of serpents.

The botom of the Ark had thin slits perhaps three inches wide positioned all along its length, with embers visibly burning within to cajole the snakes out of their box.

 _"Glacius!"_ A wave of frost erupted out of his wand, soaking the embers, but they only died for a few seconds before starting back up again. 

Of course it wouldn't be that simple.

He quickly went through his repertoire of spells to find something that could douse flames, but in all honesty, _Glacius_ had probably been the most suited and that hadn't worked at all.

He'd positioned himself on the one side of the Ark that wasn't dropping serpents so he'd have time to figure things out without being assailed by the swarm.

Think. Think. The embers looked feeble, but that hadn't stopped them from springing back to life after being soaked in ice. He supposed _Finite Incantatem_ might have worked if he were several years older and thought his magic could actually match the power of one of Hogwarts' founders.

" _Duro!_ " The flames turned into solid rock, and then slowly turned red, then orange, then back into fire.

How else was he supposed to stop-

His eyes took in the design of the Ark once more, noticed the deliberate slits in the bottom for the embers that weren't just for showing off. Fire needed oxygen. He hoped magic fire was the same.

" _Ferula!_ " Thick bandages wrapped around the slits, removing the embers from sight. " _Duro!_ " The bandages became rock, as if someone had done a shoddy job of patching up Slytherin's artifact using quick-dry cement.

The serpentine tide continued to flood through, though the frequency at which they came seemed to slow. Oh right. The Ark was still hot.

" _Glacius!_ " The wave caught a snake mid-flight. He heard it shatter as it landed on the ground, and did his best not to feel bad for it. In all likelihood, it had been a conjured construct like his own Constrictor. Not a real creature who'd wound up collateral damage.

The tide ceased. No more serpents flowed out of the Ark. The shimmering form of the Basilisk's ghost nodded to him before floating back down to the ground. Harry and his Nimbus 2001 followed suit.

His enhanced constrictor crushed the last of the serpents with its incredible weight, protected as it was from their bites by its partially-stone scales. His last two canary-vipers floated somewhere above.

 _Good job, Harry,_ Nyx said.

_Thanks._

_"Good work,"_ Harry hissed towards the constrictor.

_"It wasss easssy with the Ssspeaker's ssspells."_

" _I cannot believe we managed that,_ " Harry hissed.

" _Nor can I,_ " the Basilisk answered. " _But now my eyesss are opened. The Regent'sss defeat wasss no fluke._ "

 _"You're doing that on purpossse, aren't you?"_ Harry accused.

The Basilisk didn't answer, which was in itself, an answer.

" _Unfortunately, my ssspells won't hold forever,_ " he admitted. " _Once they expire, the Chamber will be buried in snakesss once more._ "

" _Not if you are Heir of Ssslytherin,_ " the ghost answered. " _Ark only answersss to Heir, sssame asss ressst of Chamber._ "

Harry's brow furrowed. " _But I'm not a Pure-Blood._ "

" _There isss way,_ " the Basilisk answered. " _Fail-sssafe, if Creator'sss tablet doesss not function properly. Left it to my dissscretion, knowing I would outlive him._ "

" _Ssso, you want me to be the Heir?_ " Harry clarified.

" _Had doubtsss, but you have besssted Heir Regent, ssslain me, the custodian of the Chamber, neutralized the Ark of Ssslytherin, if temporarily, and you are ssstill young. Much potential in you, I sssee._ "

" _What do I need to do?_ "

" _Nothing. Asss I sssaid, it'sss up to me,_ " the ghost said, nudging its glowing head at the tablet.

The single drop of blood he'd shed on the tablet expanded and writhed, like a red snake taking a pre-determined trail. Slowly, it began to spell out his name: Harry James Potter.

Harry braced himself, expecting some sort of new power to enter him, but nothing changed. He felt the same as ever.

" _Harry Jamesss Potter,_ " the Basilisk said. " _Ssso that isss your name._ "

" _Yesss, but I prefer Harry,_ " he said. Then he regarded the ghostly snake with a surprised look. " _Wait, you can sssee?_ "

More snake-ish laughter from the ghost. " _Yesss. Creator gave me sssixth senssse. Otherwissse would be blind when talking to hisss Heirsss. Only opened my eyesss to kill._ "

" _Did it work?_ "

" _Do not know,_ " the ghost admitted. " _Have never had to ussse fail-sssafe before. Ssshould probably try by ssstopping Ark of Ssslytherin._ "

Oh, right. He flew back up to the Ark. " _Sssleep,_ " Harry spoke to it in Parseltongue.

He hesitated a moment before deciding that if it hadn't worked, he could just seal the holes back up again. " _Finite Incantatem._ "

The stone bandages unraveled before fading to nothing. The embers no longer burned. The Ark was once again silent.

" _Then you are now massster of the Chamber, and of me,_ " the Basilisk said, dipping its head in a gesture of submission. " _Cassstle will recognize you asss well._ "

" _Jussst call me Harry,_ " he said. " _And-_ "

He stopped, reviewed his conversations with the Basilisk, and then said, " _Sssay, you never told me your name._ "

The snake made its weird snake laugh sound. " _I do not have one. The Creator never sssaw fit to name me. I am but cussstodian to hisss legacy._ "

A moment of silence hung in the air. " _Would you like one?_ "

" _You would name the echo of a dead creature?_ "

" _Echo or not, you've been immensssely helpful,_ " Harry told it.

" _Do asss you like. I am your ssservant until you finish your ssschooling. Or different Heir killssss you._ "

" _I'll die before I let Voldemort kill me. How about Quetzal?_ " Harry offered. " _After the Messsoamerican sssnake god of the wind, the sssun, and learning?_ "

" _What isss Messsoamerican?_ "

Oh, right. The snake had been down here for centuries. Long before the explorers even caught wind of the New World. " _It wasss the proud culture of people from a faraway land. None of the previousss heirsss bothered to tell you about the outside world?_ "

The ghostly basilisk shook its head. "*They did not. I like it, but why name me after a god of wind and sssun?" 

Harry smiled at the serpent. " _Because you can float and your form exudesss brilliance, essspecially down here._ "

"I sssee. Very well, from now on I ssshall be Quetzal.*"

" _Pleasssure to meet you, Quetzal. Now, would you care to ssshow me around your Creator'sss sssanctum?_ "

" _It isss my duty and honor._ "

As he followed Quetzal, Harry stopped, turned to regard his giant constrictor. _"You did well protecting me. Isss there anything you would asssk of me?"_

The constrictor looked rather surprised by his question. _"I will expire sssoon, but it isss good of you to ask."_

Harry frowned. _"Do you want me to end it early?"_

The constrictor shook its head. _"No, I would like to ressst here. Basssk in my triumph over the sssmaller sssnakes."_

He nodded to it. _"Asss you wish. You may ressst for asss long asss you have left."_

_"Thank you, Ssspeaker. I will ssspeak of your charity in the Great Pit when I expire."_

Harry gave it one last grateful smile. He tried not to question whether conjured snakes had an afterlife, choosing to focus on less morbid thoughts, like the Chamber he'd just inherited.

The Chamber was everything he'd hoped for and more. Quetzal walked him through the various facilities Salazar had left to his heirs. There was a small, hard-to-see space between the great statue and the wall behind it, concealing a hallway that branched into multiple rooms. Once you were through the dark hallway, everburning torches that gave off neither smell nor heat offered illumination.

A library larger than the Bones' and only slightly smaller than Hogwarts' occupied one end, with enchantments in place for ease of searching. While physically smaller than the library upstairs, Harry would have argued that Salazar's was greater in terms of content, especially since more than half of the tomes were in languages Harry couldn't read, and thus might contain knowledge the Ministry didn't know of, let alone approve. 

The problem was that, like many other Dark artifacts, a number of the books had dangerous protective enchantments on them. In addition to the language barrier, it meant only scarce few of the tomes were actually at his disposal. At least for now.

As if to remind him that Slytherin's affinity for Potions did not begin from Severus Snape, the Chamber also sported a large Potions laboratory, with multiple different cauldrons enchanted for different purposes. There had been ample stores of Ingredients at some point, but the largely-bare cupboards indicated one or more of the past Heirs had taken an interest and not bothered to restock. What an arsehole. It had probably been Tom.

The Chamber also held a magical smelter for working metal objects, though Harry refrained from touching anything inside. Perhaps that was where Salazar had created the Ark in the first place. Enchantment was a subject he had zero knowledge about, albeit one he'd hopefully know more of next year, remembering Flitwick's offer of letting him join the Metalworking Club from the end of the last year.

The next wing had been the biggest surprise so far: A fully furnished master bedroom hidden behind a false wall, complete with a wardrobe (though none of the clothes fit and were several centuries behind in terms of fashion) and a large, king-sized four-poster bed in the colors of Slytherin house. It held a small table, presumably for eating, as well as a sturdy desk if one preferred to read here than the library. What he couldn't wrap his head around were the pair of manacles tied to the posts of the bed. Quetzal had merely laughed and said she didn't know their purpose either.

It had two side doors, with one that led to a functioning (and lavish) bath with smooth, dark marble walls and flooring. It sported a small, unfilled pool that sank deeper on one end. 

The other door opened into a rather tiny, but functional kitchen, though there were no stores of food except for a jar of honey and a few bottles of alcohol so ancient they'd probably fetch a large sum on the market.

Harry had a hard time believing all this was his until he graduated. Heck, he could live down here if he really wanted to, but he reminded himself it wouldn't do to let people know he could open the Chamber, and not showing up to the Slytherin Common Room would draw suspicion.

Last but not least was another laboratory, not for Potions but Salazar's experiments in the creation of magical creatures. A man after Harry's own heart, Salazar was. The room held several glass cases of different sizes, ranging from smaller than Harry to large enough for Quetzal's physical body. All were spelled to prevent breaking so the Heir could observe new creations in relative safety. Each case held a feeding trough that magically transported food from identical troughs outside.

 _"I wasss hatched here,"_ Quetzal explained.

 _"Did the other heirsss experiment asss well?"_ Harry asked.

 _"No,"_ Quetzal answered. _"They had at mossst ssseven yearsss each to work. They focusssed on other thingsss."_

_"Ssso only you?"_

_"There were othersss, made by the Creator,"_ the Basilisk said. " _Each a unique creature woven by his magic. They remain asssleep, waiting for their chosssen Ssspeaker._ "

The Basilisk looked at him pointedly. Harry blinked.

" _No, absssoulutely not,_ " he answered. " _The lassst time I took a Familiar I almossst turned into a Sssquib. A full-grown sssnake would probably make it permanent._ "

 _I wouldn't mind having a junior to boss around,_ Nyx told him.

 _Yeah, but you're not the one who might lose his powers,_ Harry reminded her.

 _"Underssstandable,"_ Quetzal hissed. _"Mossst of the previousss heirsss took one, but none of them had Familiarsss prior to their finding the Chamber. And many of them were older. If you change your mind, the incubator isss through the door over there."_

The Basilisk nudged her ghostly head at a door on the far side of the laboratory.

 _"Perhapsss sssome day,"_ Harry said, not making any promises. _"Wasss that everything?"_

 _"You want more?"_ the Basilisk hissed, laughing. _"Thisss isss all the Creator imparted, though there are ssstill a few thingsss to discusss."_

_"Like an entrance to the Chamber that doesssn't leave me sssmelling like sssewage?"_

_"Yesss. Would you like me to ssshow it to you?"_

_"Yesss, pleassse."_

They headed back out of the hidden area and towards the place where Harry, Willow, and Theo had fought against both Tom and the Basilisk. The carcass of the lattter remained slumped on the ground. It had been a wonder Willow hadn't burnt it too badly during the fight.

 _"A moment,"_ Harry hissed. Quetzal didn't question him as he approached her dead body. _"Do you have feelingsss towards your old shell?"_

_"None, do with it asss you pleassse. It isss no longer me."_

Harry nodded and aimed his wand at the body. " _Reducio!_ "

It shrank to the size of a normal snake. Huh. So it didn't retain its magical resistance. Interesting. There goes his idea of fashioning Basilisk-hide armor.

He gently levitated and manipulated the body so it would be more compact before turning it to stone and placing it in the Prydwen's secret compartment. Basilisk Venom was a precious commodity according to some limited research he'd performed the previous night, and he was certain the rest could be put to use as well.

" _I wasss expecting you to turn it into an Inferiusss,_ " Quetzal admitted.

Harry offered her a small smile. " _I'm twelve. Sssuch thing isss beyond me. Besides, if I need a big sssnake, I will make one._ "

Speaking of which, Harry turned and saw his giant constrictor still resting on the other side of the hall. Its eyes were closed. He couldn't be sure how much longer the conjuration would last, but he knew it wouldn't be long.

" _Did you ressst well?_ " Harry asked.

 _"Aye, Ssspeaker,"_ it answered, not opening its eyes. _"My ssstrength wanesss, but I'll have a ssstory to tell."_

 _"You sssure you want to let it happen on itsss own?"_ he asked again. He'd been too young to start contemplating things like death and mortality, but the idea of just waiting for the end seemed depressing.

_"Yesss. Farewell, Ssspeaker."_

_"It'sss Harry."_

_"Then farewell, Harry. I will ssspeak of you in the Great Pit."_

Harry followed Quetzal past the resting constrictor, towards what looked for all intents and purposes like just another wall inside the Chamber. If she had thoughts about him and the Constrictor, she didn't share them.

 _"Here,"_ she said. _"Ssspeak to the ssstone."_

 _"Open."_ The wall slid aside, revealing a spiral staircase that reminded Harry of the one from Dumbledore's office. He climbed onto it and held on as the staircase slowly rotated to lift him up.

 _"I will remain here to keep your creation company,"_ Quetzal hissed behind him. _"Sssee you sssoon, Harry Potter."_

The staircase dumped him in the Slytherin dungeons, behind a wall with peep holes so no one could see him coming or going. He hissed for the wall to admit him, and then Harry was finally back on familiar ground, about a minute away from the Common Room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) Is it just me or is Harry using bandage solutions for all his problems?  
> 2.) I almost posted Chapter Two of Year 3 by accident so that's a dodged bullet.  
> 3.) Guest Reader ValenVulpes, stop reading my mind. Jk. At least one of those things you were guessing at is actually already planned for next book. Kinda. Not exactly.  
> 4.) The idea for Ark of Slytherin came from the Ark of Sotek, a similar magical device found in Warhammer Fantasy.  
> 5.) Oh, and reading all your responses about what tags you used to find this has reminded me of something. You know how Harry almost got Sorted into Hufflepuff in Year 1? That was actually IRL too because initially I wanted to make this a Dark Hufflepuff Harry fic, but I changed my mind because I realized Slytherin is easier for me to write and also it was stretching a bit for Harry to have a Slytherin circle of friends if he was in Hufflepuff. He's not as cool as Justin. It was a pretty neat idea, though. Was gonna have him be Harry Black and he'd be called 'The Black Badger.'  
> 6.) I really hope you guys don't get spammed notifications whenever I edit these Notes, but if you are, I apologize.  
> 7.) You might've noticed that Harry, being able to enlarge and summon snakes, would probably have been a better match for the Basilisk. That is to say, he probably could've killed it without being 'killed' by it, but Willow was wandless during that fight, so it was either she fight the snake or she gets destroyed by Diary Tom.
> 
> Edit: Added note 7.


	23. You Know How These Things End

He was sinking, falling lower and lower through… what? Thin air? Water? It was hard to tell at the speed he was moving. He knew he should've been panicking, worrying about when he'd finally hit the bottom, but something drove away the fear, replaced it with an unnatural warmth.

 _Nyx?_ he attempted to contact her, but there was no response. Another dream, then?

Lower. Lower. He continued to sink. There was no light he could see, but he could feel himself falling. Until he couldn't. A boom like a gong sounding in the distance broke the solitude, and Harry's descent slowed until he was floating helplessly in the dark.

Rock bottom, he supposed.

 _"Hello?"_ he called out. _"Carter? Are you here?"_

Suddenly, green light shone in front, and Harry had to close his eyes at the sudden illumination.

"Enity: Harry James Potter. Thou who bear our mark and have arrived at last, be welcome," a deep, rumbling voice drawled. For some reason, it reminded Harry of oil, or the bottom of the ocean.

Harry opened his eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light. Light which, it turned out, was coming from a single, huge eyeball several times his size. It glowed bright green in the murky darkness, with only a single black slit down the middle. Harry couldn't make out anything else.

 _"You know my name?"_ Harry managed to say. His voice only trembled slightly. It was only a dream. It was only a dream. _"And by Mark do you mean-"_

"Thine ken is considerable for a human child," the Eye rumbled. "So much achieved in but two fleeting years. But we are eternal, observers of history since before the fish of yore learned to walk upon land."

The gravity of whom- of _what_ Harry was speaking to, sunk in slowly. As did the fact that he'd been mistaken - the eyeball's "pupil" was no slit, but a keyhole not unlike the scar on his forehead. That was one question answered, and yet it brought up several more. _"May I know your name, great one?"_

"Thou may, but be forewarned," the entity answered. "Our name is not meant for mortal ears." 

_"Even ssso,"_ Harry hissed. _"I'd like to try."_

"Our name is @#$^&/<%," it answered. The entity had been right, of course: In place of its name, all Harry heard was a scratching sound, as if a vinyl record had been rapidly spun backwards while being played. 

It-that-cannot-be-named. Harry couldn't help but find the irony amusing.

_"Why am I hear, great one?"_

"Thou have come at the invitation of my agent. He who now scours the cosmos for lost knowledge."

 _"You don't mean Carter?"_ Harry asked, just to be sure.

"Indeed, the entity Carter is our agent, among many other things," the eye answered. 

" _An agent? What doesss he do for you, exactly?_ "

"We are learner and observer, but we cannot see all," it answered. "Our agents traverse the cosmos, so that we may know all that there is to know."

_"Do you want me to report on whatever I learn, then?"_

"We already know all within thy ken, from the moment thee learn it. Such has it been since Agent Carter unlocked our Mark upon thee."

Harry did not feel comfortable with that. If he thought this was real, instead of a dream, he-

"Entity: Harry James Potter, why does thou fear?" it answered. "As we said, we learn all within thine ken, even thine thoughts of discomfort do not elude us."

 _"Then the Key-"_ Harry began. 

"Thine reward for this bargain," the entity answered before Harry could finish his sentence. "Our gift to thee: a piece of metal from a distant star, subject to thine will and none else's."

" _Well, I appreciate it,_ " Harry answered. " _It helped against my Uncle last year. But you mentioned it yourself: you are eternal, what do you need my help for?_ "

"You humans have such fleeting lives, even with the gift of magick. We are content to let centuries pass us by, but humans, on the other hand, cannot afford such indolence," @#$^&/<% explained. "What better agents to hasten the observation of all there is to observe? Ye are like locusts, devouring knowledge faster that we could ever hope to alone. And if our gifts happen to aid you within your meager struggles, all the better."

 _"Then I thank you, Unnamable One, for gracing me with your-"_ Harry paused. _"You mentioned giftsss, plural. Would there happen to be-"_

"Continue to learn for us," the Eyeball said. "And we shall see."

 _"Of course. Farewell, Unnamable One."_ Harry dared not demand anything, even if it _was_ a dream, though he was starting to doubt that, given the nature of the last one. It was better to be safe than sorry. 

One didn't just go up to giant eldritch entities and say "I've come to bargain" without some kind of leverage.

That sounded like a good way to get killed.

* * *

Harry awoke in his bed, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Theo and Blaise were fast asleep.

He willed the Key to float above him, inspecting it in the dim light. He could see no change in it.

"What? No new powers?" he whispered jokingly.

No one answered. Perhaps it had been just a dream after all.

* * *

Finals did not breeze Harry by like he'd hoped. He didn't do badly, but just barely placed outside the top five of the overall rankings, finding himself behind Hermione, Theo, Daphne, Draco (somehow), and Lisa Turpin.

It irked him more than he'd like to admit that a boy who'd forged an alliance with an acromantula colony, claimed heritance of the Chamber of Secrets, defeated the Monster of Slytherin _and_ a shade of the Dark Lord (with some help), was one of two star Beaters of the Slytherin Team, _and_ performed high-level Transfigurations in his second year placed lower than Draco Malfoy, but that just went to show you: Grades weren't everything, even in Magical Britain. Or so Harry told himself.

"Cheer up, mate," Theo told him while he was pretending not to sulk. "You've just got a lot on your plate."

Harry nodded. He did. He really did. Not for the first time he thought about all the things he wanted to do and how he simply didn't have time for it all. Perhaps that's why It-That-Cannot-Be-Named had chosen him.

They were all in the Lakescape room: Him, Theo, Blaise, Daph, Tracey, Hermione, Neville, and Justin. Blaise and Daphne were playing a game of Wizard's Chess while the others conversed about plans for the summer.

He mused idly about how Magicals wasted the potential of animated toys on a game where the pieces didn't actually fight. Sure, watching the Queen smack a pawn around was amusing, but it would've been better if the Pawn could fight back, even if it would lose nine times out of ten.

Seeing as how Harry _couldn't_ have summer plans, he quietly chose not to be part of their conversation. They had the day off, what with the End-of-Term Feast happening in the evening before they all shipped off back to Platform Nine and Three Quarters the next morning.

"So, no summer trip for you this year, Nev?" Harry heard Tracey ask. He'd been tuning the conversation out, but even with Occlumency, Tracey's voice still cut through just enough to be heard.

"Nah. Gran wants to do some work with the greenhouses," Neville answered. "You're all welcome to come over if you like."

"You know I'd love to, Neville," Hermione said. "But my parents are already upset I spend so little time with them as is."

"What about _your_ father?" Harry asked Theo in a hushed tone. "Any feelings over the year's events?"

He was, naturally, talking about how Lucius had accidentally set the Monster on his own son. Insight on the former Death Eaters was helpful, no matter how little.

"He's just glad I stayed clear of the whole affair," Theo answered.

Translation: My father doesn't know I helped you fight the memory of his previous employer, and I'd like to keep it that way. He didn't share any feelings about Lucius' blunder.

Harry smirked. "Of course. What reason would a sensible Slytherin have to seek and confront such primordial horrors?"

Primordial Horror, Harry thought, had a different meaning after his dream.

Theo returned the smirk.

"Harry," Daphne asked, not looking up from her chess game against Blaise, "You're only staying with your muggle relatives until the end of June, yes?"

"Gods willing, yes," Harry answered. He didn't ask why she wanted to confirm. The Greengrasses wanted to thank him for saving her life, and that was a connection he wasn't about to turn down any time soon. " _Do_ write me over the summer this year, if you could."

Daphne sniffed. "I'll consider it."

It was strange, he realized, to have all his equals be his supporters. His only enemies in his year were Ronald's pack of Gryffindor boys, and none of them could even come close to claiming to be his rival. Draco, perhaps, but even he seemed rather trivial compared to Riddle, and Harry had shown on multiple counts that he could handle the blond boy easily when push came to shove.

It felt oddly lonely to have no equal that held animosity towards him. Then again, he supposed it would be an unwelcome distraction. As a wizard, Harry still had a long way to go, and there was no telling how or when his three-way chess match against Voldemort and Dumbledore would escalate, though Dumbledore's black and white views on the world seemed to paint him white now that he'd taken a stand against in some capacity.

It was a blessing, if not one one he'd planned on getting. Dumbledore would watch him with less scrutiny if he thought Harry was a White chess piece. As a White piece, Harry could get away with things that'd get him called into Dumbledore's office if the Headmaster thought he was Black. Still, if Dumbledore had any idea of the true extent of Harry's extracurricular activities, he'd be in trouble.

Petty rivalries were for schoolboys with plenty of free time. Harry had weapons to build, techniques to hone, secrets to learn. He couldn't have beaten Riddle's shade on his own in a proper duel, what more the adult Death Eaters? His conjurations worked well on Dark creatures, but a Constrictor, no matter how large, would die to many spells in an adult wizard's repertoire. No, Harry needed dueling practice on top of everything else if he ever hoped to fight Dark wizards and survive.

And so did Willow. Maybe Amelia could arrange lessons? There were likely many accomplished witches and wizards who'd be happy to help the Head of the DMLE, and with the events of the second year, his chances of convincing Amelia were pretty good.

"It's about time for us to head out," Hermione said. Harry nodded. It was almost time for dinner. "We'll go first."

"See you on the train," Harry said.

"See you," Neville said back.

"Thanks again for the book," Justin told him before the three of them departed, leaving only the Slytherins.

Good old House Politics. They made the perfect pretext for why the Slytherin members of their circle had to stay behind while the others went off on their own. A minute later, the door opened back up, and Justin walked back in.

"Did you start without me?" he asked.

"Hear ye, hear ye," Blaise managed to say with only the faintest of smirks. "Announcing the first official meeting of the Snake Eaters."

"We are _not_ going to be called that," Daphne said sharply.

"Seconded," Tracey chimed in.

"Agreed," Harry said. "Though I do have a few things I want to smooth out before our sorrowful parting tomorrow."

"Mate, you're making me blush," Theo quipped.

Harry ignored him. "First of all, seeing as you're all far better acquainted with Magical culture than I am, what beliefs does our society generally prescribe to?"

"How do you mean?" Theo asked.

"Do Magicals believe in angels? Demons? Eldritch abominations existing beyond the veil of the material universe?"

"The last one," Theo said with no hint of humor.

"Wait, really?" Harry asked.

"Even the greatest Dark wizards know there are doors you shouldn't open, secrets that're better off buried, et cetera," Theo explained.

"Tell that to my Dad," Tracey said, snickering.

"Not even the Dark Lord dared attract the attention of such entities," Theo added. His brows furrowed. "Why are you asking, Harry? What did you do this time?"

Harry hesitated.

"You know how I can do this?" Harry asked, then his Key slowly floated out of his robes, spinning gently above his hand.

"You had another dream?" Blaise asked. "I didn't see anything different this morning, though."

Harry nodded. "Neither did I, so it could be coincidence or-"

"Hang on," Tracey interrupted. "What dream?"

Ah, right. He'd purposely told as few people as possible. He quickly explained how he'd dreamt of an old man from his childhood who'd shoved the key into his scar and then woken up to find the Key floating.

"And then he woke us both up," Theo complained.

"I had another one this morning," Harry began. "There was… something in my dream. A great eye that said it had been watching me. It could be nothing, but with this pattern of happening at the end of the year-"

"I agree. It sounds a lot like the kind of thing whose attention you don't want," Theo said.

"It seemed amicable enough," Harry added.

"Did it give you a name?" Theo asked.

"Yeah, but my brain couldn't make sense of it," he explained. "To me it sounded like a vinyl record being played backwards."

"I've never heard of a horror from beyond taking an interest in a kid before," Theo said. "Not that I read too deep into that lore, mind you. Like I said, some doors are better left unopened."

"Well, figment of my imagination or not, I still haven't found a plausible alternate explanation for this." The Key dove sharply before looping back up in a large circle and returning to its original position. "But, more importantly, how would the Dark Lord's people react to the knowledge that I might have made contact with such a being?"

Theo seemed to think for a bit before answering. "Not sure. With varying degrees of fear and ridicule, I imagine. It's certainly making _me_ a bit uneasy. A Basilisk is one thing. A creature from the outer reaches of the universe is another."

"Excellent," Harry said. "Tracey, I think you mentioned you didn't have plans for the summer."

"Bloody eavesdropper," Tracey said, sticking her tongue out at him.

Harry smirked. "Not my fault I couldn't block your lovely voice out even with my Occlumency in place."

"So, what do you want us to do?" Tracey asked. "Start a rumor about how you've been talking to a giant eyeball in your dreams?"

"No, no, something with a bit more oomph," Harry said. "Like how Riddle was defeating using unfathomable powers Willow and I gained from an eldritch being."

"Yeah, no, my Dad isn't going to print something like that," Tracey said. "Try the Quibbler? It's a tabloid, but it's one of the few publications that's not strictly controlled by the Ministry."

"No one believes that hogwash," Blaise pointed out.

"All the better. Let them see it for what it is: an overblown rumor. Let them underestimate what we can do," Harry said. "Do we know anyone with connections to this Quibbler?"

"It's run by the Lovegoods," Tracey offered. "Their Heir is in Ravenclaw, year behind ours. I think she's friends with Ginny."

"I'll look into it," Harry said. "But if she can't help, I guess we'll have to rely on word-of mouth."

Theo sighed. "What do you want me to say to Father and his associates?"

"Just that Harry Potter is brilliant and eccentric, crediting many of his achievements to some being he can't prove is real." 

"So you want them to think you're insane and just got lucky against Riddle?" Theo clarified.

Harry nodded. "And obviously, don't mention I'm the new Heritor of Slytherin."

"You're _what?_ " Daphne asked.

"Oh, right. I maybe should've started with that. Also probably should've warned you before I went and did it, but I took ownership of the Chamber," he said.

"So much for not going off on your own anymore," Daphne said, scowling.

Harry physically had to stop himself from wincing under her withering glare. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to bring you along until I knew it was safe, and things kind of just happened."

He gave them a brief summary of how he'd entered the chamber, been rejected by the statue, and had to fight his way through a death trap before he could finally claim to be Heritor of Slytherin.

"Heritor?" Daphne asked. "Not Heir?"

"It means the same thing, essentially," Harry said.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I know what it means. I'm asking _why_ the change. It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue."

"He's rebranding it," Justin explained. "Muggle companies and governments do it all the time. Take one thing with bad connotations, change the name to something that doesn't, and suddenly it looks a lot less bad."

"That actually works?" Blaise asked.

"More than you'd think," Justin said. "Most people don't realize what's being done at all."

Harry nodded. "I mean, really, you could count the number of people in our year who can think for themselves that aren't already in our circle with your hands. If that's anything to go by, it'll probably work. Same with Lord Nott's associates thinking I'm no real threat to them."

"The Death Eaters are the Dark Lord's chosen," Theo reminded him, looking skeptical. "It's not like he just got a bunch of drunks off Knockturn Alley and put them in masks."

"Aren't Malfoy's stooges' fathers in the Death Eaters?" Harry asked. "They can't _all_ be brilliant."

"Point taken," Theo conceded.

"Honestly, Harry, when are you going to remember their names?" Tracey snickered.

He shrugged, humming something that vaguely sounded like 'I dunno.'

"Now, obviously, no one in school besides our little club can know I'm Heritor," Harry said. "Not even Hermione and Neville for now and especially not Willow, but changing the title will help keep me from being branded a future Dark Lord if that bombshell ever makes its way to the general public. Are we clear?"

His friends all looked at him with questioning stares that all seemed to say, 'Do we look like we can't keep secrets?'

Harry nodded, satisfied.

"As for the Chamber, I found a second entrance that's a lot less of a pain in the arse," Harry said. "Not sure it'll respond to normal Parseltongue, but we can give it a try next year. We're also gonna need to run a few tests on that, maybe get Ginny officially on board."

Daphne nodded, followed by the rest. 

"Well, if there's nothing else, I am famished," Harry told them, sweeping his gaze around his friends and settling on Tracey. They all filed out of the Lakescape room for dinner.

Except for Harry, who pretended to tie his shoe, and Tracey, who pretended to be waiting for him to tie said shoe.

"One of these days," Harry drawled. "Someone is going to actually just need to tie their shoe, and everyone's going to wait around feeling like fools."

Tracey giggled. It was a cute sound, he thought, but then, Tracey had supernatural allure she owed to her mother. "What is it, Harry? Need me to run a smear campaign or something?"

He smiled at her. "No, I just wanted to apologize again." Her smile faded. "You were under the Imperius for half a day and no one noticed."

"Water under the bridge," she said. "Admittedly, it was weird to have _my_ head be on the receiving end of mind-altering magic, but don't worry. That won't stop me from using the stuff on other people."

She gave him a sly wink.

Harry shook his head. "You're going to be terrifying when you've fully grown into your power."

Tracey gasped, made a show of crossing her arms over her chest. "Mister Potter, that's no way to talk to a lady."

He smirked and bowed his head. "My apologies, Miss Davis. I meant no offense."

"I always figured you for a brute," Tracey quipped. "Waving that bat around like a madman and all."

Harry met her gaze and grinned. "I assure you, madam, I am no simple brute."

* * *

Green and Silver decked the Great Hall as Harry and his Slytherin friends (who'd all waited outside the Lakescape room for him and Tracey) entered the Great Hall. Harry caught Daphne's eye as they sauntered over to their table. 

_"Sssee? Now you've won the House Cup for Ssslytherin, too,"_ he whispered.

She just nodded, though the gleam in her eye told him she appreciated the gesture. It eased his guilt somewhat. She'd put herself in harm's way because he'd made her feel smaller than she was, intentional or not. He didn't mind making Draco or Ronald feel insignificant, but he had to take care with his friends.

Approving nods went their way from their seniors as they sat down. Tracey had been hard at work spinning a story of how Dumbledore had been about to give Gryffindor free points again but Harry's circle had acted to make sure Slytherin got some, too.

Still, it hadn't been a complete victory. Due to the last matches of the year being cancelled because of the Basilisk, Gryffindor had taken the Quidditch Cup. Next year, Harry could plot around that, as well, if time allowed for it. Hopefully, the dissent among the Death Eaters' ranks from Lucius' slip-up would buy him some breathing room from them.

Second year had been a sharp contrast to the first, with the urgency of the Monster attacks interrupting his school life. To be frank, if he'd known a Basilisk was coming, he wouldn't have bothered trying out for Quidditch at all.

He politely accepted the cheers from the upper years and pointedly refused to look at the faculty table. If he saw Dumbledore, he might have been tempted to look smug, which might have prompted Dumbledore to pull Gryffindor points out of his arse.

"Before we begin our final feast of the year," Dumbledore began. "I would like to address rumors that have been circulating."

Harry absently checked the table and found Draco wasn't there. Lucius must've pulled strings to take him home, then. Ah. So _that's_ how he'd managed to place higher in exams despite being petrified for over a month.

"This year, student and faculty alike were beset by attacks from a horrible Monster," Dumbledore went on. "And it pains me to admit that it was not I nor anyone else from the staff who stopped it. Indeed, I was not even in Hogwarts when the creature was defeated."

Harry listened with feigned disinterest. It was old news, of course, but how Dumbledore spun the tale wouldn't be.

"It was only by the actions of a group of students that the Heir of Slytherin was defeated." Dumbledore paused, looking solemnly at the assembled students. "I will not name names, because as one of them aptly pointed out, my awarding of points for heroics last year spurred at least one student on to take great personal risk in pursuit of the same glory."

Harry did his best not to look at Daph. He knew her face would be as cool as it had ever been, and no one would know it was her.

"But to those students, I offer my sincerest thanks," Dumbledore said. "It warms my heart to know that whatever their origins may be, the students of this school are willing to stand up and fight for what is right."

Harry winced. Bit on the nose. Now everyone with half a brain would know Slytherins were involved, but he supposed it was as much subtlety as one could expect from Albus Dumbledore. Not to mention people would've put together eventually that Gryffindor and Slytherin's hourglasses had swelled in points over the past few days.

"One final thing. For the rest of the day, curfew will be lifted, on account of how many days we've had to spend inside our own Common Rooms for fear of being attacked. But I've spoken enough," Dumbledore concluded.

"About time," Harry muttered, to snickering from his fellow Slytherins.

"Let the End of Term feast begin!"

The last good meal Harry would have in a while appeared before him. The Hogwarts Elves always cooked well, but they tended to outdo themselves during Halloween, Christmas, and End-of-Term.

Their latest work did not disappoint: Generous helpings of chicken stewed in a tomato-based sauce, with ample servings of mashed potatoes on the side. Harry would've liked a few vegetables added to the mix, but it was hard to complain when he was stuffing his mouth as much as he could without looking like the underfed little boy he used to be.

* * *

"Hell of a year, huh?" Blaise asked as the six of them (all the Slytherins in their circle plus Justin) wandered the Hogwarts Grounds. The moon shone brightly, illuminating the Great Lake. Harry's aversion to it had lessened after seeing a part of it through the Slytherin Common Room for two years, though he wasn't about to jump into it any time soon.

Harry hummed affirmatively.

"You know, I came along because they never let us out here at night," Justin said. "But there's really not much to do is there?"

"Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest," Harry answered.

"Oh, I dunno," Blaise drawled. "The upper years are probably going wild over it."

Tracey snorted. "Merlin, puberty is hammering you hard."

Blaise shook his head. "Like I don't know it."

"You given thought to what Familiar you're taking?" Harry asked Justin.

"Yes," was all Justin said, with a smug look that reminded everyone present he could've gone to Slytherin.

"You think you could lend me a copy?" Tracey asked.

Harry nodded. "If you're gonna do it, do it over the summer. The drain is hell."

He unshrunk his trunk, took out his own copy of _Getting Familiar with your Familiar_ and passed it to her. She thanked him before stuffing the tome into her Mokeskin Pouch.

"I'll get it back to you when Term starts back up," she assured him.

Harry smiled. "No rush."

He honestly hadn't touched the book in over a year, focusing on the sequel and how he could empower Nyx through spells and rituals. He'd be trying some of those, soon, especially since the incident with Riddle had given him such nice material to work with.

"Well," Daphne said. "I guess John and I'll be seeing you in a month, right, Harry?"

"Of course," he answered. "Give them my regards. I'll draw up plans while I'm at the Dursleys'."

"I _thought_ that monstrosity of a trunk was one of yours," Blaise said. "You really made Harry a weaponized trunk?"

"He designed it," Daphne explained. "Our crafter just built and fine-tuned it. You should've seen how bad the first version was."

"We don't talk about the first version," Harry reminded her. "My attention might be split, because I wanna see if Amelia can't get me a dueling instructor over the summer."

"I can do that," Daphne said. "Isabela's the best duelist I know. She can get you up to speed."

 _"Your family won't mind?"_ Harry asked.

 _"Houssse isss indebted to you, remember?"_ Daphne reminded him. _"Isss leassst we can do."_

Tracey sighed. "You two are seriously having a secret Parseltongue conversation in front of us?"

"Then, thank you," Harry said, slipping back into English.

"Can't have you dying on us," Daphne said.

"You know, it's a shame the rest of us didn't get Possessed," Theo mused. "Being able to speak Parseltongue is a brilliant way to keep secrets."

"You should've said that months ago," Daphne said. "I'd have traded places in a heartbeat."

They shared a laugh before parting ways for the night.

Harry's sleep went undisturbed, and even the train ride back to the Platform was uneventful - a welcome change from the rest of the year, even if it felt a bit dull.

That was alright, though, because Harry had a hell of a schedule to keep for summer, and he'd have to sit still in Privet Drive waiting for it to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! Huge thanks to everyone who's read the story and especially to everyone who went out of their way to tell me they enjoyed this fic. It's heartening to know people enjoy one's work.
> 
> A few last notes before we wrap up for good:
> 
> 1.) Some of you may have noticed something during the conversation with @#$^&/<% that Harry himself didn't notice or remark on. Yes, Harry was speaking in Parseltongue the whole time, but the Entity's replies were in English.  
> 2.) I did some last minute editing with this, so if anyone notices anything that doesn't make sense, please do me a favor and point it out so I can fix or address it.  
> 3.) Third Year is going to be... interesting, to say the least. It's probably gonna be the year where I lose readers because things get weird but there's almost no stopping this train now.  
> 4.) Expect Harry Potter and the Great Horror to start uploading... I dunno, late August to September? These things get harder to write with each school year, it turns out. Who woulda thought? Go Follow me @RavenReverse if you want periodic updates because I'm not allowed to post announcements here.


	24. Extra: A Shoelace Left Untied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. No, you're not going crazy. This book originally only had twenty-three chapters, but since it would be really dumb for me to ask for constructive feedback without actually listening to it, I've decided to add one more short chapter to address the issue of how Riddle who is, himself, not Pure-blood, managed to claim the Chamber.

"Entity: Harry James Potter, why does thou fear?"

Except Harry hadn't feared, he'd only been uncomfortable that the entity could read his thoughts despite his Occlumency. He'd even contemplated asking the Observer if it would share more power with him before deciding that was stupid.

The scene replayed itself in his mind with vividness so surprising it negated the cheerful mood of their compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Neville and Theo were talking about what Neville had missed inside the Chamber, but Harry was barely listening. He trusted Theo to only share things they were willing to let the rest of the school know, and Pansy had floo'd home from Hogsmeade Station. She hadn't been talkative since being cured of petrification.

Theo was right, of course. Fear was the natural response to something that predated humanity by several million years at the very least. So why didn't he?

 _You look uneasy. Is it talking to you?_ Nyx asked. _I don't hear anything._

 _No,_ Harry answered. _Just replaying the memory. It's weird. Usually, when I dream, I remember the sensations I feel, but not the details. My meeting with it was rather vivid._

 _It could be a dream, or someone else's magic,_ Nyx suggested.

Harry frowned at that. _Maybe. I hadn't considered-_

"Wait, You-Know-Who was Half-blood?" Neville's loud question cut through Harry's thoughts like a hot greatsword through butter.

Harry found his mouth dropping as he remembered the Chamber's hostile reaction to his blood. Why had no one pointed that out before? Had he not - No, actually, he hadn't mentioned _why_ the Chamber's defenses had activated, he'd only mentioned that they had. He hadn't even mentioned the Fail-Safe Quetzal used to instate him as Heritor. They'd probably assumed he meant it was because he wasn't a direct descendant. He'd even changed the title from Heir to Heritor. Sometimes, having a friend group that always spoke in codes was a pain in the arse.

Merlin, he felt like an idiot. Quetzal had been so cooperative he hadn't thought to ask how Riddle had gotten his name on the tablet, and it was too late to go back now.

"Why are _you_ surprised, Harry?" Theo asked. "You were there."

Harry looked at Theo, made a conscious effort not to shift his gaze to his other Slytherin friends, and schooled his face to look calmer than he felt. "No, I just realized something: How did Tom Riddle, a Half-blood, claim Heritance of Slytherin?"

"Oh, don't tell me you buy into that blood purism drivel, Harry!" Hermione said. "You grew up in a Muggle house for Merlin's sake!"

Theo, Daphne, Blaise, Tracey, and Justin, of course, understood his meaning, and were looking at him with varying looks of thinly-veiled curosity, surprise, and frustration that he hadn't mentioned it earlier in Daphne's case.

"Of course _I_ don't, Hermione," Harry said. "None of us do. Otherwise, you and Justin wouldn't be here."

"Or me," Tracey reminded him.

"No, I think I'd keep you around," Harry said. "A one-woman propaganda team is pretty useful."

Tracey feigned hurt. "Harry James Potter, did you just call me a gossip?"

"Wait," Hermione said, putting two and two together. "I think I get what you mean. Salazar Slytherin made a Monster for hunting down muggle-borns, so it would make sense if only Pure-bloods could seize control of his Chamber."

"You got it," Harry said.

She frowned. "Doesn't that just mean Salazar wasn't as crazy about Blood Purity as people think? Maybe it's actually a more recent school of thought and people mistakenly attribute it to Salazar Slytherin."

"It's possible," Daphne answered non-committally. "The Basilisk didn't have a problem attacking two Pure-blood children. In the end, it was probably subject to the will of whoever's Heir."

"Although," Theo chimed in, "I will point out that none of the Dark Lord's followers knew he was Half-blood, either, or at least none of them advertised it."

"See? Propaganda works even in Magical Britain," Justin said.

"Unless you take a proper gander," Neville added.

They all looked at him with pained expressions.

"Sorry."

"Still," Harry began, "Assuming blood purity actually mattered to him, I don't think Salazar Slytherin would've been tricked by propaganda."

"There might be ways," Tracey offered. "Blood magic is illegal for many reasons. Falsifying evidence is one of them."

"Ask your mother for me?" Harry asked. "For academic purposes, of course."

Tracey snickered. "Will do."

"Still, Riddle said he wasn't an expert on Blood Magic," Harry reminded them. "It's why my mother's protection caught his older self off guard."

"Mate, he had a whole circle of powerful wizards and witches," Theo shot back. "Maybe _he_ actually relied on them instead of trying to come up with a solution to everything by himself."

Ouch. "Point taken."

It made sense now, why Riddle had been so willing to part with the knowledge of how he claimed Heritance. Of course, he thought Harry would die, but even if he'd been wrong, Riddle hadn't told him anything useful at all. No mention of the Ark, or the Fail-safe, or even that the Basilisk was more than a living weapon.

Quetzal had been the one to tell him about placing his hand on the tablet. Harry thought he'd been clever, but the shade of Tom Riddle had outwitted him, in the end. Bastard should've died slower.

"Also," Harry said, "Just to be clear: No one outside our group and the Headmaster should know Voldemort was Half-blood."

"You want us to propagate the lie?" Hermione asked.

"No, but I don't want former Death Eaters targeting any of you for ruining their propaganda campaign," Harry explained. "These are dangerous individuals, Hermione. Remember, the Aurors had them outnumbered during the war, but they were winning anyway until Willow took Voldemort down. So, no mentioning he's Half-blood. Are we clear?"

"Alright, Harry," Hermione said.

"Don't look at me," Neville answered.

The rest didn't even have to say anything. He'd have to remind Willow via owl, too.

Harry silently signaled Blaise to divert the conversation to a less questionable topic, and he managed to smoothly segue into a discussion about what electives people were taking next year.

Harry tuned the conversation out, pondering the many questions he now had. How had Riddle claimed Heritance? Why didn't Quetzal mention using the Fail-Safe on him? How was Harry even a Parselmouth to begin with? Was the Basilisk wrong? Did the statue instead judge Heirs based on how much of Salazar's blood was in them? Phrasing could be tricky, especially with Parseltongue. Riddle had been a direct descendant, but Harry had no idea about his own connection to Salazar. He'd have to check the genealogy of the Potter family over the summer. Perhaps the Bones' library would have a record, what with them being Sacred Twenty-Eight. Then again, the Potters weren't because of 'political differences.'

So much to do, so little time.

As the train pulled into King's Cross Station, their party bade each other their goodbyes. Harry spotted Theo glancing at him before bending down to tie his shoe. Harry pretended not to notice, and watched as their friends slowly left the compartment.

"What is it?" Harry asked. "We've got maybe a minute."

"Uh, actually," Theo began. It was one of the few times Harry had ever heard him stutter.

Harry shot him a concerned look.

"Neville stopped on my shoelace while I was getting up," Theo said sheepishly.

Harry replayed the sentence in his head, trying to decipher the hidden message. Then, he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. 

"I _knew_ this would happen one of these days," Harry said. "Come on. The lot of them will be waiting out of earshot like idiots."

Theo's grin as he got up was full of mischief. "Wanna pretend I actually had something to say?"

"Why not?" Harry said. "I've got to be a good boy for the next month or so. One last bit of mischief won't hurt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit where credit is due:  
> Thanks to reader Scarpath for pointing out that "intentional ambiguity" still requires a mention. Otherwise, it's just a plothole.  
> Thanks to reader Calia09 for unknowingly giving me a good idea for what the title of the chapter should be.
> 
> Edit: Thanks to reader TinCats for reminding me "Parseltongue" is the language and "Parselmouth" is the ssspeaker.


End file.
